Memory

His dream is gone the way of dreams,

Fading away like eagle screams.

He fought so long in troubled seas.

Now he's alone with memories.

He's too old and weary to fight.

As his daylight gives way to night,

He remembers, and he can see

His tomorrow may never be.

He sits alone among the trees

Surrounded by his memories.

His mountain dreams were best of all

The precious times he can recall.

By many people he is known,

And yet he sits here, all alone.

… no one to listen, no one sees.

These are moments of memories.

His days are ending very soon.

It's already late afternoon.

Tomorrow, perhaps, he may be

A moment in some memory.

There's no more chances he can take,

And no more plans for him to make.

So that's what life has come to be,

… only moments in memory.

In his memory he feels love.

He sees those who have gone above.

He knows just how good life can be,

…in his moments of memory.

~Poem~

Glen Pysell

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