Dusky Years

Backward among the dusky years,
pieces of life reminiscent do lay,
in a place longing to be remembered,
a place where many hearts do wish to stay.

Trunks full of memories sit lost and alone,
dust clothes the facets of their face,
reflections lost to time and wear,
now sleep in a restless grave.

Ladder back chairs, wooden spools of yarn,
lemonade on the porch at night,
once colored those worlds with life and love,
now they're packed away, no longer burning bright.

Yet a cloud does linger, amongst the aged piles,
making that sacred veil so very thin,
voices of soldiers and daddy's and wives do linger,
Beckoning ones soul, come abide with them.

And as one sits amongst the rust and the muck,
the picture is laid their before their eyes,
and soon they know they've been pulled into,
that lovely simpler time.

So hard to leave yes it does seem to be,
for the energy is much more than strong,
one leaves a piece of themselves behind,
among those dusky years, here and gone...