Later

Later

when the taxes are paid

and the kids are grown

when the winter comes

and all our seeds are sown.

Later

when our hearts been broken

a hundred times or more

when the wars are fought

and the earth is sore.

Still later

when we stumble on

and see the morning sun to rise

and then the stars and moon

again a hundred million times.

And much later

when all our words are written

all our feelings felt

when the well runs dry

and all we have is our self.

And much much later

when our pain is great

and our friends have died

when the days grow longer

and every tear’s been cried

Through all of this

all that will matter

is how well we loved.

*

( poem written upon waking Saturday, September 27, 2014 by Christine Schoene Maccabee )

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