Cum Aetate

The older I get, the shorter the lines become The older I get, more welcome is each morning’s sun The older I get, those words rented are now mine to keep The older I get, dreams follow me out of my sleep The older I get, less rules to impose on the game The older I get, hopes and wishes of youth to reclaim The older I get, new laughter recalls what I missed The older I get, all goodbyes now embrace and dismiss The older I get, what I searched for, my searching became The older I get what’s forgotten—remembered again (Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2015)