Old Sam remembers…..
The years roll by quickly now,
Spring into summer, summer into fall.
Summer was ending as we left,
The pastures burned dry,
Rowanberries ripe and red,
Corn tall and golden, and harvest near.
We walked out of our lives
Into the unknown.
We were young enough to think
It was an adventure.
I think back on it all now
And remember that boy, the one with the pack,
And his bright eyes and stout heart.
Do you remember me at all,
Do you think of those days?
I remember you at times,
When the blue mist in the morning
Lies like a scarf on the dry hills,
And the wind dances down,
Singing of strange roads,
Singing of adventure.
So many years lie between us,
Numberless as the leaves in that distant wood.
The golden light that shone
About our young selves is faded.
My bones ache, and my eyes are failing,
There is but one journey left for me.
It may be that one morning,
When the sky is high and blue
And the wind brings news of far off lands,
That I will go out my front door once more,
Bearing that old, heavy pack.
I will step onto the road that winds
Away into the hills, and beyond the hills,
And I will turn a little,
Turn maybe to look back,
And there you will be,
Walking beside me.