There are moments in once elderliness when
the flowers of the mind, the silver of remembrance
is but a cracked black & white film.
Old age and wishes blend into a golden patina of
illusion, disappointment seeps in melancholy
lower the tired head and doesn’t let it look up to see
the sky or sense the wind or rain.
This tristesse where has the laughter gone, the charm
of friendship and the beautiful women are
but ghosts in a threadbare past.
The squall doesn’t linger colours become visible there
is no time not to enjoy what`s left in the time glass.