Summer of the Bulldog
When they're gone, they're gone.
Ten thousand yesterdays march off
To darkness and memory.
We stand on the small island of the present
The future flows towards us,
Becoming the past.
She was home from Freshman Year,
But almost never stayed.
We saw her in flashes,
Between work, friends, romance and dramas.
She has her life, and lives it full;
There are no regrets.
Our son marries;
Between hot flashes my wife starts a new career
Parents age and worry
I paint and write and try to be worthy
Of my gifted life.
Change is constant,
Everything evolves relelentlessly
Time flies or crawls, but always moves
All is tied together
By the invisible webs of love we weave.
Come Sunday, back to school.
That's life:
Lightning flashes,
Sewn together with love.
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