~
We are becoming
The old folk we knew,
No longer now with us,
Whose losses we rue.

Life, like a train trip,
One track bearing to;
There is no return trip –
Onward, straight through.

Too frequent are short stops,
To drop off a few;
Old folk won’t get on,
Just only the new.

This makes us the old folk,
That one time we knew.
I miss most those old folk,
I miss them, I do!

And when this old train stops,
For me, I’ll go too.
But, should you soon rise up,
Ere my time comes due,

Know this! It won’t stop me,
From coming with you.
True birds of feather,
Together, we two.

There’ll be no one other;
This much is true.
Two birds, together,
I’m coming with you.
~

©2013, Marvin Loyd Welborn
Revised 4 March 2015.