A cliché maybe,
For the multitudes have said it,
Yet,
One thinks it now and then,
In one way or another.
Situation, circumstance transport it to
The frontal lobe.
One probes the wardrobe of the brain
Where dreams have lain
And lie there still, so very still and quiet.
But today I chanced to see
A photograph of me
And chanced to say,
“Once I was young”.
It did not feel like cliché,
But fresh, revivifying
Memories I had not thought about,
Affections that now brought about
Sensations not particularly rosy –
But not jarring either.
More a nosy statement not opposing fact;
In fact, prosaic,
Dry.
I
Once
Was young
Not to
Be that again.
Do you
Experience that also?
Once I Was Young 7.23.2017
Birth, Death & In Between II; Circling Round Aging;
Arlene Corwin