Like blind man’s eyes
the door to the famed store
sees no one, silent, gone with
the hay days.

Every where new ones,
lively, full of hope, bustling
with young and bright faces–
asparagus after rain.

Some change for the sake of
change, in hopes to draw eyes,
to find a promising road to
the dream land.

An old dame steals
a glance at the nostalgist.
We nod, unspoken, yet
agree: we gray-heads are still
in crowd.

© Byung A. Fallgren