they call it getting older, <br />i call it rust! <br />or maybe autumn leaves, <br />and the promise of snow. <br />an avalanche in slow motion, <br />a door that creaks when closed. <br />a latch on the bedroom window, <br />ashes that smolder with hope. <br />a tree fallen across the path, <br />the old car that turns over, <br />but wont start. <br />the plow crusted with dried earth, <br />the hammer on the shelf. <br />you and i... <br />nothing forgotten!<br /><br />Eric Cockrell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/older-6/
