‘New’ murmurs to me,

leave the damp fog

of all you every knew.

Sip the amber whisky,

ride on golden steed.

Allow tired memories

to sink below horizon.

The future lures you

with crooked fingers,

wagging promises

over the vista.

Sojourn with me,

taste cutting edge,

seal the ancient

into zippered pocket.

Fall over my cliff

but you cannot,

not ever,

walk backwards!

New shoes

Old news

Something I can use

Nothing I can refuse

Which should I go for

The heels or loafers

Or both?!

My stedfast friends

may your soles rest in peace

reached journeys end

Travels beginning anew

at each step, you remind me

of your youth