Young Old Man

Young old man on days like this I think of you

Nostalgia and happiness always lead me to the door that holds your memory

Opening it willingly to source my soul with the light of your brevity

Despite all this time here you are

Young old man have I got stories to tell

Tales from your line even though you departed at one of the first stops where reality entered my childhood

The train has kept moving forward as trains often do in the rush

On the track of life that waits for nothing or no one

Young old man what a life it’s been

Not too hard, not too safe but the route has gone off course so much that deviation is the norm

Nothing is ever what it seems or what it is planned to be

Foolish are the passengers who want to get from one point to another without disruption

Young old man you’ve missed decades of history

The branches of the tree have grown long despite an unexpected drought over the land

We plant our garden not where we choose but where It chooses us

Watering and nurturing the bloom even if at times it belongs to a neighbor

Young old man the babies are a growing

Boys and girls become men and women passengers of the train in their own right

I keep making room, moving my place, looking for a better view as the car gets crowded

Yet there is always an empty seat no matter how many are around

Young old man that seat is for you  

I often wonder if you are there… 

 

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