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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