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