XLV years later, we meet again,
it's Fate.
You with grey in your beard,
Me with slight jowls, but
the same smiles, the same affection.
The Oregon beach where we met still has
a thundering surf
the sunsets are as spectacular and young people
wander the beach, smiling across shimmering sand,
maybe they will become friends like we did.
Maybe they will meet again 45 years later
at a brewpub somewhere.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment