Inevitability offers little solace.
The once magnificent Maple
Looks naked and forlorn on this late spring morning.
A sad monument to past greens and gold’s.
Rose, now starting her 13th year,
Has reached an age where accepting her leash,
Once an enchanted moment preceding the day’s adventure,
Seems to affirm a foreboding journey.
Michael, my buddy, has been giving ground for a year, maybe two.
At dinner, he becomes very quiet
If the subject turns contemporary.
His sharp wit is gone along with driving directions.
There is probably an offset to these tales,
A brilliant light coming from an eternal source,
Or rebirth into a higher realm.
For my part, a fast exit sounds more appealing.
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