I do not count the clock when I’m outside I do not count the leaves, fallen and sere I do not count the silver in your hair Though I celebrate them all the same
(But not the clock; there is no love in clocks)
These golden days have beauties of their own Their richness born from the promises of spring The culminations of summer’s growing days Crowned with silver by the first falling frost
I do not count the clock when I’m outside I do not count the clock when I’m with you