The Front Porch is quiet,
Unfamiliar and bare
I look upon it lost,
unbelieving and stare
Out in the graying grass,
As I close both eyes
And I remember some place,
One where nothing dies
Growing older seems elusive,
In the summers of twenty one
A pup and a man-child,
With many miles yet to run
Chasing youth, balls, and bones,
Me and my black shadow
Barking at birds, bugs, and bees,
Songs that now only I know
Drifting back to the porch,
Releasing yesterday's spell
Squinting in the quiet light,
Looking for a wagging tail
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