On Going Golden

I believe it shall be something grand--rich indeed!
Like the pralines from River Street Sweets,
(So sweet you can never get enough),
to have grown and be at last in the golden years of life.
Years golden like the hues of the earth at Katy's favorite time of day--
It is forever mine because it was once hers.

The twinkling sun glints through to capture my attention;
Peeking, dancing in and out from behind the moss and
Leaves of the Savannah oak trees:
Sunkissed and golden outlined,
Standing tall and proud like the city they shade from
The deep southern heat.
All pride and formality,
Full of dahlings,
And scandal,
And drinks before eleven

Images of my twenty three years glitter through my mind
Like the sunlight
Transparent and sweet,
Swift yet leaving that lingering taste of joy:
Sugar
And sassafrass.
They roll on like the constant road beneath me
One could wander forever to store up such sweetness!
Imagine all the innumerable memories I shall one day wield
When one day I, like Whitman, sit in the picturesque primavera of life!

I wonder:
How many leaves will I have counted?
How many roads traveled and miles surmounted?
How many people shall have molded my life with their lives
And deaths?
How many losses and triumphs?
How many sunrises and sunsets
and laughter in between cups of coffee?
How many songs to fill the soundtrack to answer the question
Will the wanderer will have forever wandered?

Oh yes! Sweet! And grand it will be, as it seems to me,
To one day know how much wisdom is truly gained with age!
To one day see the conclusion of my mortal part
On this great earth: The Immortal Stage!

How sweet will it be to see all of life in the sea of my memories!
O yes!, to grow old shall be a grand adventure
To grow old as the all things do grow
To change as the leaves do change
It shall be something grand indeed
To grow,
To Sway,
To Turn,
And one day: to fall--
And be blown away with the wind!


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