We Live In The Now

We live in the now that is how it must be
But wherever i go to my past follows me
In my flights of fancy i hear and i see
The male red breast singing on a leafy birch tree
When wildflowers are in bloom in old fields far away
And the hawthorns are cloaked in their white flowers of the May
And the small plain brown lark with the slender musical bill
A tiny speck in the sky sings above the brown hill
Far south of the place where i first looked on the light of day
The years have left me looking older and gray
And only the memories with me now remain
Of faces and places i may not see again
I live in the now and the future ahead
And the past follows me like the ghosts of the dead.

by Francis Duggan

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