Poem: Behold

Library of Congress
Library of Congress

She told me she was afraid,

afraid of growing old,

her words had little meaning,

these old words now retold.

Spoken to me in a time,

when years to come had not,

those innocent words,

only now thought.

I wonder how she has aged,

what kind of woman is she,

is she still afraid of each year past,

or does she cherish old memories like me.

I hope the years were kind to her,

that life did behold,

she told me she was afraid,

afraid of growing old.

Author: James W. Spain

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