The old man had walked into our lives
as a young man.
And we were all young and hopeful.
Now the old man was looking doubtful
about the world’s ability to amount to
anything but a weary surrender to
the unknown.
We were weighed down with
the fallen stars and buried hopes.
We scarce would be anything
but broken since he had spoken.
But now the silence brought
us back to youth and for a
moment, this old world
would know the truth.
Vicki Woodyard
This is a fabulous poem! I love it!