Those Days

To Jennifer, in memory of those days, the good and the bad. Thank you for being my friend through all of those days.

They were red and brown, those days,

Those days we sat under the golden trees

And talked of poetry, and how one day

The world would all be ours.

Those days of fleeting warmth,

Of golden sunshine touched with faintest rose

That touched and warmed our eyes and hair;

Those were the days that we were young.

They were silver and blue, those days,

The days when we walked along the icy walks,

And talked of books, and how we’d change the world,

Just one step at a time.

Those were the days of driving wind and ice caps

Forming on our frozen noses as we walked

Under a gray and dismal winter sky;

Those were the days we were alive.

They were gray, those days,

The days when we sat beside the burning fire

And talked of the world, our little world,

And all the troubles that it held.

Those were the days we longed for sunshine,

And when it did not come, we sang our songs

Beside the glowing fire in the hearth;

And those were the days that we grew wise.

They were the golden days,

Those days we sat under the spreading trees

And talked of times gone by, and how one day,

Some day, they’d come again.

Those were the days of sweetest warmth,

And fragrant sunshine touched with memory’s hand,

The hand that warmed our hearts to fire;

And those were the days when we were young.