|Forty-five comes home to many places,
Opening her heart again, again,
Returning, turning to a field of faces
That wait to greet her as a dear old friend.
Yet she knows which ones she needs to tend.
Friendships shouldn't be a load of cases
In which the labor overtakes the end.
Vistas must retain their open spaces,
Enduring grace on which all eyes depend.
Copyright by Nicholas Gordon