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Afternoon Thoughts
Crisp autumn raindrops punctuate the cold.
Arthritic stalks snap in the dismal day.
Black branches creak like bones depressed and old,
And matted grass sleeps hopeless, spent, and gray.
Inside a farmhouse sits a lonely man
Rocking fading photos in his lap,
Reliving happy journeys when he can
Thoughts traced and folded like a well-worn map.
A muscle-clad, tanned youth stares out at him,
His first new tractor shining at his side,
And curly-headed girl, wide-eyed and slim,
Just sixty years ago, a doting bride.
His children clutching puppies grin with glee,
His first sight of the mountains, tall and proud
His son catching a pike as big as he...
The pain of moments lost intense and loud.
A tear that matches rain slides down his face
And stains the scenes already damp with tears.
He lights a match with perfect palsied grace
And sets aflame the past of fast-flown years.
Memories mirror only what we lack.
Our Savior gently tells us, “Don’t look back.”
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