We have all been assured that the older we get the wiser we get, but I’m not so sure. The only thing of which I am completely certain is that the days go slow but the years go fast. And not just fast, but a whirlwind of flashing scenes and faces when looking back down the dark rimmed corridor of time. Wasn’t it only yesterday I asked that pretty little girl to the prom? Why do I remember my first pair of roller skates? My first bike? How is it I remember the names and faces of everyone in my eighth grade class? I think I know the answers. It’s because memory works in fast years, so they didn’t happen all that long ago. When counted in slow days they happened sometime around the Permian, but that’s in slow days. In memory it all happened yesterday.

 

 

The days go slow, the years go fast

And soon before you know it

We’ve watched our time on earth go past

And hope we didn’t blow it

We got things right from time to time

That hunting dog, that scope sight

We got things wrong, but that’s no crime

We always tried to do right

We try our best, but we’re just men

And when we fail we’re shattered

We pick ourselves right up again

Though bloody, bruised and battered

We’ve made decisions that we know

Were not the best we could have

We’ve done some things that go to show

How wrong we were, or should have

That’s not to say that we’re alone

In looking back in sorrow

At things for which we can’t atone

At least not ‘til tomorrow