Remember

My version of Yeats' When You Are Old, written long, long ago:

When you are old and full of sleep

When the wells of time are running deep

Take out this poem and think of me

Lamenting then life and love's debris.

Though many loved you, loved you dear

And desperately wanted you near

Only one loved your soul and learned

To love your joys and sorrows each in turn.

Remember the soft look your eyes had yesterday

Yet those same eyes you turned away

And love sped then much too soon

And hid among the shadows of the moon.