When you're young,
You may write to
Your latest infatuation.
Or, maybe out of
Teenage angst, you'll
Write to yourself -
Catharsis for your built up
Anger and frustration.

When you're a little older,
You might write about your
Wedding day,
The vows to your bride.
Or maybe when you bring
Children into this world,
You'll write about
The fear that comes
From becoming a father.

In your thirties
Disappointment may come,
And you may find
Yourself writing to
The man you were 10 years ago -
Wishing you had taken the
Other path in that yellow-leafed forest.

When you hit your midlife crisis
You might write about the things
You have or have not done...
Or maybe you'll write about
Your newly found passion:
Harley Davidson Motorcycles,
The rumble between your toes.

Retirement brings the turn of the line
As "every season has its sign".

In your older age,
You may cease to write
For the muse of your youth.
More and more,
Your poems will end
With the words,
"In memory of..."

Each one reminding you
To be thankful
For the sock that helped you
Find the book that was loaned
To you months ago,

And you will notice things like
Those naked-spring-branches
So harmoniously intertwined -  
A piece of art that
No painter would be able to emulate
With a thousand brushstrokes.

And as you sit down to reflect
On the typed documents
Of your life's work,
You have a friendly conversation
With a long-distance friend,
Reflecting on it all.