maybe it's old age

maybe it's old age.

but things are more beautiful
than what
i remember
when I was young.

were the trees ever this green
behind the house.

the sky so blue without
a sun.

there is a sweetness in the taste
of things.
a slice of cake.

a glass of tea.
ice cream melting in my mouth.

did kisses ever feel this good.
was making
love

ever this sublime,
where were all
these things

for so many years.
what have I missed by rushing
to the train.

how did I not notice how wonderful
the world can be
with or
without someone
sitting

next to me.