Forgetting

There are so many things that fill my days;

Friends that I had neglected have returned;

I do not have to walk familiar ways -

Life hurries one's feet onward, I have learned.

If my heart wished, there is no time to go

Back to the hill that knew my farewell tears;

The maple tree is shrouded now in snow;

Days turn to seasons; seasons turn to years.

Each day is a bright challenge that I meet;

And yet, sometimes at night, whe all is still,

My eyes grow blind with tears; my trembling feet

Take once again the path up to the hill...