Wednesday, July 27

I spent last evening with a friend in his 90’s and a bottle of moscato. We were toasting an elderly neighbor who just died, and the talk ran to–as usual–how the world has changed. Our age difference counts for nothing; we both see it and experience a degree of alienation in a culture we haven’t kept up with. Most frightening is how the generations themselves have changed and continue to evolve.  Were the “good ole days” better? We can’t decide!


About Carol Foreman Brockfield

Poet in Medford, Oregon
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