Farewell To a Young World
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Raised on a rock farm,
Eating blackberries daily,
I grew.
And so did the world.
The bugs were relentless
Except in winter when they slept.
The days were as drifting clouds,
Time for dreaming, unfulfilled.
See the blue up there.
See the green down here,
How it alternates with snow.
To conjure a memory is to be reborn.
Friends, water, sweat,
And always-- books,
For out of books the days take their hue,
As I immerse in magic.
Far places, lonely steps, horses and plows:
The dirt gives its pleasures
and its treasures.
The hills sing at night and rest by day.
The years grow like dandelions;
Soon they are gone.
Yet-- I remain astride the years
While the people grow and fade.
The days are restless under the rod;
And days dwindle,
Moving brightly as a kaleidoscope,
Then dim as a low lantern.
In the final hour, as light flickers,
I stand and shave away the gray stubble
of the years.
Copyright © Bill Yates | Year Posted 2015
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