As I age, the world ages with me
As it always has
Things I treasure go out of style
Live music, blues, jazz, the symphony
Peace and love
Mozart went out of style
And nobody knows where he is buried
Who performed for princes, kings, queens
High art, technique, form fail
Churches dwindle, consolidate, close
Zoroaster, Moses, Jesus shrugged off
They follow Zeus, Apollo, Heracles
There is no perpetual spring
There follows summer, autumn, winter, and spring again
As I autumn, I can’t see spring again
No, I don’t see spring
I will be leaving this world
And I look toward another
And as my world dies, perhaps it is well that I also with it
I think less of my legacy than I do my potential
In my autumn I see perpetual springtime
David Fekete 