He had to return to that old, old dam, <br />Where he often roamed as a lad; <br />To see it crumbling, eroding away, <br />Left him pensive, reflective and sad- <br /> <br />And this he told me- <br /> <br />'I saw the high and low water marks <br />Clearly etched on the battered old wall; <br />With life's flotsam and jetsam pounding away, <br />My old dam seemed ready to fall. <br /> <br />It has guarded life's waters for near eighty years <br />And has lasted as long as I; <br />Scars from those years are clearly in view- <br />I am telling you this with a sigh. <br /> <br />I feel an affinity with that old dam <br />And can see a reflection of me; <br />After seeing it slowly decaying away, <br />I was filled with a deep empathy. <br /> <br />Life, like the waters, must keep flowing on, <br />Ever hampered by time and the years; <br />I, in my twilight, keep thinking on this- <br />Pardon me, while I wipe some tears.<br /><br />Joseph Anderson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-man-and-his-old-dam/
