The Poem of the Week is being posted late today. That happens sometimes when you are dealing with senior writers. Speaking of seniors, here’s a short poem to all those whose hairs are now interwoven or replaced by gray. As for you youngsters – your turn will come. Be well, stay safe.
They sit on benches in nearby parks
Like journeying birds on the telegraph wire;
They dream of past days, of grand old times,
Of their long lost youth’s burned out fire.
They sit on the benches and take advantage
Of the sun’s last rays in late September –
It is so good to have a bit of warmth,
It is so fine to remember…