reminiscing
it’s not too late
this night of the living
awaken and sing
your lonely songs
trees like old men
bent over and supported
by crooked canes
look they say
they are just like me
we are one in the same
there is comfort knowing
we may have been down
this road before
hand in hand like
old lovers reunited
recaptured by the light
day turns into night
the songs begin again
sung by nightingales
aspiring to be angels
january two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved