Time chases me

Through the dancing years

Polka, foxtrot, twist,

Then the slow, slow, waltz

Of the white haired “golden years”,

As the orchestra sweetens

To 3/4 time

And the drumbeats fade.

Time’s at my heels.

The waltz slowly ebbs

As I dance in place and

Over my shoulder I glimpse

The hour long minutes of yesterday,

Now rushing by at dayspeed.

I cling to my partner,

Remembering the dances of youth,

Grateful for the soft approach

Of the finish line,

And the sweet sound of music beyond.