Eighty-Four

An elderly woman stands in an open field looking at a night sky filled with stars.

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If You Close Your Eyes, I'm Still with You.
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Eighty-four is just a number.
It means but little to the soul.
Granted, yes, the body knows
How much one's mechanism slows.
The years of toil take their toll.
Yet the child's still full of wonder

For is the tree no more than lumber?
One is still one, both young and old.
Unchanged by change, one comes and goes,
Root and blossom, branch and bole.

Copyright by Nicholas Gordon. Free for personal or non-commercial use.

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