Look...See how long nights are drawing in.
Dreary birdsong gradually abates - Opaque dusk grows dim;
And just outside the creaky little garden Gate,
Stood opposite the empty wood
Where the vacant threshold silently awaits,
I pause, when, resonating quietly back...
I now hear...
Far distant echoes of my glorious childhood
Tugging like a Siren upon my ear.
We don't remember days, we remember moments.
This is what define us, Memory Lane.