Read the play in the spring
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Thought a lot about God's role in suffering
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And all...all of the millions of times.
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I heard the news in July
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Had no symptoms, only the reasons why
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All...all of those lost, sacred rhymes were lies.
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I had imagined it mattered which reasons to use
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But winter brought nothing but all the bad news we could bear
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Could hardly bear
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Heard your voice through the glass
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Felt you standing at every slow street I passed
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And then...then I was standing alone.
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I strained to think what you said
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To remember the last couple lines you read
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And grinned...grinned with the grace of a saint
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I had imagined the best way to deal with the blow
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We stood on the lawn and we sang in the snow
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How I wanted God to know
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I know how you got old.
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-----------------
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I Know How You Got Old
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| Namelessnumberheadman |
