Memory hurts – our hearts are stung
But sometimes I think the pain is for
Not a particular place but more
A special time – when we were young
For freer days when we knew hope
And what we felt we had was – scope.
Dear, the night’s long gone, the moon’s
A refugee, the sun’s about
These many hours to come...
It’s more quiet than I’ve ever known
No cat stirs, wasp or fly.
At least for a while...
