This Poem was Submitted By: Howard D. Palmer On Date: 2002-10-17 19:51:41 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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On the Death of Aunt Hanna

                                                  Slowly falls the setting sun                               On fields I used to know,                          And softly call the memories                               And dreams of long ago.                          Dreams of long ago my friend,                               When you and I were young,                          And knew not life moves ever onward                               Toward the setting sun.                          Yet all who have now gone before                               To pass beyond that once far door,                           Live on in memories and dreams                               As they have lived before.                          My father walks there yet today,                               A fly rod in his hand,                          And chips are flying from the lathe                               Where your father used to stand.                          My mother’s bright blue sparkling eyes                               Still burn with impish light,                          And cookies from your mother’s fire                               Still whet my appetite.                          All this belies the charge you made,                               That caused such agitation,                          Each time I close my eyes I see                               The “OLDER GENERATION!”

Copyright © October 2002 Howard D. Palmer

Additional Notes:
One winter day in 1997 I received a call from my cousin Clarice. She informed me of the death of her mother three weeks shy of her 100th birthday. She asked me "You know what this means don't you." I answered no and she informed me that we were now the "Older Generation" as Hanna was the last of our family in her generation. This poem was my response.

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