A Sonnet for a Birthday
Old recollections are the strangest things:
Those mem’ries seen in rear view mirrors’ glass
They’re hard to catch but fade by darkening
As time moves on receding—vague—alas!
We treasure them and never let them go,
Yet see what is to come each bright new day.
The past dies not—sure more there is to know
Of what’s to come—with friends to show the way.
Gratitude is made from time that’s passed
With friends, but futures freely given will
Cement the bonds that link our yesterdays
To ‘now’, as long as we, dear friend, do last
On this our fragile earth where days we fill—
Until Sir Death does come and us betray.