The Good Old Days

These are the good old days.

The golden years were in the summer
of my life, when the sun was shining.
I met my husband, held my children’s
wiggly bodies for the first time,
had a houseful of laughter and activity.

The good old days are now.  I’m old,

but there are riches to be found
in the love of this same sweet man,
the mountain top in fall, or a winter
scene when I write or paint to my content.