©2012 Susan Noyes Anderson (poem only)
How beautifully leaves grow old.
In glory, they slip away.
Crimson and scarlet adorn them,
as they skitter along at play.
One day, I shall follow their lead,
though my hair be tinged with gray.
I’ll dub it silver, don red shoes,
dance off in gold lamé.
“Grow old with me; the best is yet to be!” – Robert Browning
“Beautiful young people are accidents of nature,
but beautiful old people are works of art.” – Eleanor Roosevelt
“For the unlearned, old age is winter;
for the learned, it is the season of the harvest.” – Hasidic saying