Getting Older

Maybe it gets a bit harder to rise
at dawn after a few pints late at night;
and those few pounds get harder to disguise,
making a climb up the stairs no delight.

Maybe your ears aren’t as sharp as they were,
yet some echoes you never can forget;
so many things fade away in a blur,
except her voice’s sound the day you met.

The new ways of youth seem so strange and wild;
and you think often of different times –
when the world was young and full of verve,

and could not fathom you with a grandchild.
Each passing year seems more and more sublime
as like our memories, we are preserved.

07 MAR 2003

for LJ user dougs

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