Shining Sun on Windowsills

It goes so fast,

The shining sun on windowsills,

The squirrley songs we sang as kids,

The football games, the proms, the first French kiss,

The wedding day, the bliss, the distance, the parting;

Then the drinking loves, the yelling loves,

The tender loves, the kinky loves,

The one-night loves, the year-in loves,

The furtive loves, the laughing loves,

To finally love that lasts, thank God.

Squarely rooted, rocked, we're 'sposed to be by now;

Some friends of mine are talking "good old days,"

And "Rock 'n' roll was better then,"

"I can't stand punk or rap," "Remember when,"

Nostalgic, judgmental, dreary,

Just like the ones they tried to get away from.

When did they stop?

Where did they go inside?

Was there a single, sudden moment,

Or did they vanish slowly from within,

Mystified perhaps by Saturn rings and Voyagers,

Emerging sounds of solar-droning synthesizers,

Shaman drums and Transcendental Meditation.

Echoing late in nights like this,

Remembered hallways, class bells ringing,

Slamming lockers, shining sun on windowsills.

The beard I grew last month streaked silver,

Each white hair a mile I've traced,

A song I've sung, am proud of.

These, the sparkley days,

Expansion roller-coaster wild,

The blissful love, with passion, trust,

And making plans, the winging days,

The now a joy, the yesterdays no longer crying,

The reeling Fellini parade of

My carnival life still dancing.

Silent night outside,

No stars, still and calm,

Winter's chill tomorrow.

Goes so fast,

The shining sun on windowsills,

"One, two, buckle my shoe,

"Three, four, shut the door —

"Olly-olly oxen free."