Old age and memories linger in the fog. Words of the past haunt, newborn’s cries Etched in glassy recesses rush forward to Burst forth from wrinkled lips. Rain and an October flood back. Her beauty reached out to caress. here is a blanket and soup; it will warm the very cockles. is that what she said? Another October the child awakens; draw the blinds Luce; the sun will hurt her eyes. Wisdom for the aged, Teach the children about life. Year of the son, of pride and joy. catch the ball, son. see, this is how it’s done. run with it and breezes whistle in your ears. Waning years, with child-like tears of regret Cover old wounds, voices no longer strong; Don’t you remember, you told me all about it Again at dinner last night.