Back then I thought my grandfather was old
(His hair was white, and I was very young).
His boyhood, long behind him, he extolled
In stories freighted full of deeds he'd done.
We sat upon the porch those summer eves;
He smoked cigars, and talked about his youth,
Recalling the bright plans he once conceived,
Before life's needs became his higher truth.
I'm older now, than he was at that time,
And understand the yearnings of his heart;
I joined the race, and ran it in my prime,
Like him, made plans that changed right from the start.
Life gives us leave to balance wrong and right,
As we await the coming of the night.