back then, back when,
we measured men
by the cut of their jib,
back when a man was
only as much as he
could give,
back when living
meant the will to live,
that's when we knew
that the strength of a man,
was not just in his arms,
not the sum total of his
manly charms,
but in the strength of his
resolve, and all the many
puzzles that he could sit
and examine, and
solve, and so that is why
we often want to go back
to the good ol' days,
when there was little in the
haze, and when we were
absolutely convinced that
what lay ahead was
better days.

June 29, 2009, for Grampa.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

No comments:

Post a Comment