Until you are thirty and I am eighty.
Will we walk the mountain trails on blue sky days?
And breathe deep the pine and sage.
Will we stand silent as we see storm clouds brew miles away?
Trusting each other to find our way home.
As our teeth grow long and hair turns gray.
As the aspens turn.
Our time will pass beyond the seasons.
To one last winter until then,
Will we grow old together?
Will we grow old together?
Great way to start my day Agnes. Thought provoking words, sweet picture. Thank you.
You are down but not out my friend. ❤️