Fewer do I see in my periphery
From the swimmingly, staggering blunder
Of those from my old backyard lumber.
My reliances – all gone!
Their footprints, are gone.
All gone is their strength in number.
Right or Wrong, I went along,
A holiday taken in Summer.
Bad or good; would if I could.
Then pick or choose and win or lose.
One must, one might, one should.
In all too soon I’ll enjoin their slumber;
And reap, again, with their strength in number.
©Marvin Loyd Welborn 2011