Reflecting, remembering,reminiscing

Seem to be the predominant activity

In one’s latter years

Home movies, pictures help an addled memory

Yes, though reluctant to admit there is much which is gone now

Conversations, images, events sometimes can’t seem to be grasped

Often called, ‘Honey’ at the grocery while using my cane

Don’t know when the time came to understand and accept

There was no going back

Always knew, but disregarded the finality of this life

But now quite aware

What seemed would be eternity

Is now measured by Mother Nature

Who just plays by the numbers

The numbers on one’s clock

So that is what ‘your time ran out means’

Tempus Fugit

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