Twenty-three years ago, this month,
I first drove to this town —
The old mills on the river
There to greet me.
So many things have changed, since then:
This mills have all gone empty,
Now occupied by
College campuses.
I guess, after our toil is done,
There’s always time for learning;
Because it’s hard to know,
We always seek —
And of blue mornings, on this bridge,
I only have so many:
For desuetude is not
Ever
The end
To share is human:
