once they would have celebrated a goal with a cheer, a punching fist
but now older men complete crosswords and smile
they know the past and its value
and the warm contentment that enfolds them into the darkness
old age
Youth ran through my fingers
Youth ran through my fingers like water or sand
my hands as dry as late-summer grass
Hands and heart, hands and heart
skin rasps, blood thickens
Love ran through my fingers as youth did
my hands dry, my hands dry
