Although we move
at a lardy-dardy, largo pace,
we remember life,
energy, events, exuberance,
and passions, as if the arts of sound
in allegro tempos, still
are future plans.
Where did the days of gaiety go,
the jamborees and childhood noise,
the overseers of nights on knees
when tucked into bed with prayers said?
What swallowed the years as life moved along,
in celebrations with offspring when triumphs soared,
and nourished their failures building character?
Oh, medicine cabinet, your pills revive the brain,
while bathtub rails steady a dizzy soul.
Yet in days past,
eau de colognes satiated the air,
smelled sweet on those who wore
scents stored in these wall units.
Hairsprays kept styles in place
while razors cleaned our legs and face.
Oh, for days, when renal failure
captured those in the news
who wore tap dancing shoes,
not the spouse who owns my heart,
not the man who retired with me,
not the one who vowed we’d grow old together,
nor him who agreed to travel track-ways,
play with grandsons,
and laugh through years each season.
Who notices when parents start struggles
when their life starts winding down,
yet remember allegro movements?
Oh, the winters’ time of life
comes between a family, a man, and a wife.