Preface to the Past

Time all of a sudden tightens the tether,

And the outspread years are drawn together.

How confusing the beams from memory’s lamp  are;

One day a bachelor, the next a grampa.

What is the secret of the trick

How did I get so old so quick?

Perhaps I can find by consulting the files

How step after step added up to miles.

I was sauntering along, my business minding,

When suddenly struck by affection blinding,

Which led to my being a parent nervous

Before they invented the diaper service.

I found myself in a novel pose,

Counting infant fingers and toes.

I tried to be as wise as Diogenes

In the rearing of my four little progenies,

But just as I hit upon wisdom’s essence

They changed from infants to adolescents.

I stood my ground, being fairly sure

That one of these days they must mature,

So when I was properly humbled and harried,

They did mature, and (most) immediately married.

Now I’m counting, the cycle being complete,

The toes on my children’s children’s child’s feet.

Here lies my past, good-by I have kissed it;

Thank you kids, I wouldn’t have missed it.

          --Ogden Nash