Richard Schnap

I see young girls turning
Their faces to the sun
The candles in their hearts not yet lit

And old men passing
Fused to their canes
Dragging their shadows behind

And in between them
A magnolia tree
Its blossoms waving in the wind

Making the girls rejoice
And the men reflect
As if each was under a spell

But too soon its petals
Grow withered and fall
Like pages from an ancient book

That one was only
Just learning to read
While the other was learning to forget