The Linnet's Wings The Winter´s Tale, Ravens and Robins - Page 83

Ravens and Robins Reflections Of An Old Man O by James G. Piatt ld memories drift in and out of my mind like an intermit- tent rain in wintertime. Tears once withheld often flow down my wrinkled cheeks as visions of the past continue to fade into infinity. I am left in the presence of my aging bones and wistful thoughts. I often recall the rapid flowing moisture of a stream now dry, and a lake, which is but a pond, casualties of the drought. I no longer hear the croaking of frogs once hid- den in the reeds along side softly rolling brooks for they too have vanished. The wind through the hollows whispers images into my soul of past treks where I walked on dusty trails. I remember a long time ago when I was strolling in the woods under the summer sun and the river was filled with fish, bullfrogs and ducks. I seem to be caught in that ambiguous nowhere land be- tween yesterday and today, and sense a vague longing for all that has vanished, but more for fear of what is coming as my years rust away into the mirror of echoing reflec- tions. 83