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by tinman Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Prose · Biographical · #2005897
Something on aging
We do not explore the woods, anymore.  Eyes that could see, once, through the light of tomorrow, can now barely see the next approaching tree; feet that once ran and leaped, now shuffle and trip over emergent roots, and the close growing green strangles where it used to caress.  We do not explore the woods, anymore.



We do not live in the castle, anymore, the air too rare to risk the climbing.  We have packed away faded dreams, maybe princes, and shattered glass slippers and moved down into the darker valley of reality.  Castles belong to believers in tomorrow.
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