I once said, don’t make regrets
And yet, a pile of them stare back
Fermented and stacked high
Reminders of life’s backpack
—
Reflections have a deceptive hue
Beneath the tarnished glitter
Sorting memories from dreams
Tossing most in the litter
—
In old age the road ahead narrows
Rear view distorts true reality
Brighter, prettier, augmented
Stars of our own marquee
—
Time melts the hardest resolve
Habits are like veins in rock outcrops
Wired around one’s personality
Always ready like acting props
—
When the afternoon light fades
Point forward, where the future is hinted
Be where the moon smiles kindly
And delicious adventures freshly minted