Many-hued pubs bid me welcome
As would friends on the street
And so does Cromwell Bridge
Where long ago we first met.
I see the fields where we played
And plucked up the kerry violets.
I gaze out over the dark bay
Reflecting our lives as glass.
Memories live but a season
And like a photograph
And erelong, I will be as one
Fading - crumbling fast.
When you are old and banjaxed
Will you still remember
And find there my countenance
Among the leas of Kenmare?
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Author:
Amy Michelle Mosier (
Offline) - Published: January 11th, 2024 19:18
- Category: Reflection
- Views: 4
Offline)
Comments2
Contemplating the end days... The changes brought on by ageing... Soman Ragavan. 12 January, 2024.
Brilliant.
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