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The Quaternary can waitam older than when seas came parting mountain tops
and opium was merely air and sky and water...
am older than the eyes of the primal stillborn cat
whose lids never regaled horizons with green...
am older than the embers singed by Prometheus
and older than Pandora's fabled treasure chest...
am older than the monsters which haunted your grandparents, dear
so old that fossils had different names before the glaciers...
am old, and I love being old.
the wrinkles, and dried skin,
the short-sighted dream
of a time soon to pass...
But, my dear, for now and at last
I am young.
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and I was sorry to hear about the contest
You'll get'em next time!
The pencil is mightier than Wacom!
and thank you so much for the feature