I went to my high school reunion:
I wasn't sure what to expect.
Would those we once held so high
Retain our aged respect?
All high school cliques had disappeared;
our hearts included all.
We understood, as our days grew short,
our differences grew small.
The grey in our hair and slowness of step,
were the trophies of our days:
The wars we fought, the triumphs we shared,
the loves lost while finding our ways.
The ups and downs and sideways of life
had been etched upon every face.
The joys and laughter and sadness
had given each an uncommon grace.
The reunion was nice, but I had learned
you really can't go home again
We were no longer those high school mates
Waiting for sixth period to end.
Friends remain pearls, diamonds the tears
but it's strangers we've become.
Like faded photographs in a dusty box,
reminders that once we were young.
Copyright © Ann Peck | Year Posted 2021
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