As shadows lengthen and our pace is slowed,
we huddle on the brink of fading day,
endure the ache of brittle bones where once
the surge of youthful fervor had its way.

We've seen the breakneck speeds, the techno leaps—
each generation out to make its mark;
our turn is over, yet we feel their urge
and hear the voice that calls them to embark.

Despite the creeping chill, those childhood dreams
of "once upon..." still circle through our veins;
though summer's scent has dried upon our pores
the memory of its blossoming remains.

- Laryalee Fraser

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