I am old now, Performance gone by the wayside

My chair the place most sought

But as I sit, secure in my life though it now most passed by

I see my memories, strung straight as a violin string,

from me to the moon;

each waiting for

a flicker in the eye,

a scent to waft up the nostril,

a tinkle in the ear,

a waft of wind across my skin,

and even the slender thread of spit in my mouth as

Each one is renewed, I re-live, as I remember

and give thanks

for Life and Courage and Love

and most of all

for Others.

kneel9er