Where trees stood tall and
green enfolded earth
I sought the pleasant haven
of my birth.
But drought and time left
only wreckage there.
Gray memories were all I
found of worth.
The book was closed upon
a dwindling past;
The end was here. The things
I knew would last
Had tottered in the avalanche of years.
The world and all that's
in it move too fast!
(First published in Along the Lane: Dedicated to the memory of Thomas William Larsen, who lost his life in World War II)
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