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!

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About Carol Foreman Brockfield

Poet in Medford, Oregon
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