Morning flowers

Along the riverbed
Beneath the rising sun
Taking me back
To days of yore
When you and I were young.

Yes, we once were,
A century ago,
The year began
With 19
And never will again.
It was romantic,
Exciting
And beyond
Our wildest dreams.

Our teen-age years
Are gone,
But not forgotten.
As our memories
Live on
We count them,
One by one.

They fill our
Scrapbooks
Photos of those
We once knew;
Where are they now?
In their sixties,
Just like me.

          — Deanne F. Purcell

Copyright 2002
by Deanne F. Purcell


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