ARE WE TOO OLD TO HOLD HANDS

A simple phrase, not simple as it sounds

For all our age, calls back our younger years

And leads us to the track where we were bound

To enter tunnels where we left our fears

And seeing nothing but the endless night

And still the anguish holds us in its grasp

Its mindless foibles biting like an asp

The wonder that any love at all exists

The rules they hammered into heads like fists

We thought we lost those guidelines back in time

They still exist in corners of the mind

But all it took was one small glass of wine.

Drew myself together, said loud and clear,

"Am I too old to hold your hand, my dear?"