I sit here wondering when the day will come...

I picture myself being very old..

   you know..really wrinkly, shaking, talking foolish...

old and haggard.

Is it just in the movies of days of old

   or in the sitcoms like Father Knows Best?

Tunes flowing from the radio remind me of days of old,

   times with mother (without father in site),

and simple life when you felt a tingle in the pit of your stomach,

   like everything is going to be alright,

that something wonderful is yet to come.

I worry... about what I write...

   and how it comes across, how it is received.

Yet, in the end, I still feel compelled.

And then the end of that beautiful song...

   like in a movie...

You write that last word;

   then comes the last note.

How apropos.

February 6, 2009