I walked along the back roads of my mind
And found them overshadowed, as with trees.
The years had crept and, even though were kind,
Had dimmed my vision with alarming ease.
I tried so hard to see those dearest scenes
Which had been so fond in years gone past.
So oft this problem intervenes,
And dim, the future now seems cast.
Oh, the pleasure that I used to feel
When viewing lovely pictures in my memory.
Things of the past had seemed so real
While basking in the world of reverie.
Sometimes a little sunshine filters through
And brings a tiny touch of years gone past.
Too soon the cast is given the "exit" cue
For an act so good---but couldn't last.
Alas---the dimness, as though the sun had set
And shadows from the trees which overgrew the road
Merging, made even dimmer, causing deep regret,
As a screen, now closing on the final episode.
By L. B. Strawn
March 19, 1996