Where have the years gone?
I stand silent on the shop floor at where I work and I see the many faces of youth.
Amidst the noise and the hum of machinery, I see life’s finality by its proof.
In my mind’s eye I still see the men with whom I once so long ago worked with.
I still smell the hard smell of our sweat all those years ago and now, oh now something is amiss.
Most all of those men are now long ago gone, many now sleep eternally in their silent home.
So now I stand in silence and think about the years and all those I have known.
Am I to be the last man standing in an ocean of muscular youthful faces?
Or am I also to fade away too and go and find my own far and obscure place?
Sometimes I will walk out onto the back dock and stare at the tall green pine trees.
Sometimes I will speak to them and say silly things like ‘I remember when you were so little, do you remember me?’
I must say, as odd as this sounds…when the time is just right I can hear their soft whisper in my ear.
I can still see their youth as the soft sounds they sing speak of neither age, nor fear.
Therefore I conclude as I watch in silence the ghost that still walk in another time.
I wonder where the years have gone, and I wonder when I along with the others will hear their number and I will hear mine.
J. Allen Wilson 11/15/2012
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7btcIj3p4-I
I am not but 38 years old but I also look back asking the same question, even though I still have alot of life to live.....THANKS
Still, although I am editing my twin brother's and my own autobiographies, and I enjoy the memories it brings, I don't dwell in the past, but look forward to my next novel or short story and my next adventure that will lead me to writing more from my experiences.
Where Have All the Flowers Gone? is powerful poetry by Pete Seeger. We need to return to simply written and sung songs like that in the fights to save our environment and equality in the future. It is part of our heritage to create beautiful folksongs and I hope we continue to well into the future long after I'm gone.
Ron
m
budd
I enjoyed this evocative piece, which you imbue with authenticity and sincerity.