On a balmy summer day,
When frothy white clouds
Strolled through a crystal blue sky,
I lay in the grass, chewing
On a sprig of sweet clover
Listening to the drone of a passing "Gooney Bird".

The hour that I spent there
Lasted all my youth long.
I closed my eyes, and when
They opened again,
The clouds were steely gray;
Youth was long past.

I dare not blink again.

Hal Maples ©