When I was young and hair bloomed full
upon my thoughtless little head
it seems I spent more time in trees
than ever spent within my bed
Leaping carelessly from branch
and hanging upside down by knees
marvelling at all I'd see
the flowers and the honeybees
And even as I grew to be a man
I loved to climb, to run and play
thinking in my youthful heart
that I would always be that way
But now as gray begins to root
within my thinning head of hair
it seems that life is too filled up
to run and climb without a care
I wish I had a tree to climb
like the trees of happy youth
where I could linger with the bees
in search of simpler bits of truth
But all my trees are tender shoots
and long before they grow so tall
I think that age will touch my heart
to keep me from their earthy call
And I will look to branch and bough
with eyes so full of wistful tears
remembering the feel of bark
from my happy childhood years
10/8
John W Flournoy
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-trees-and-aging/
