Sediment and Silt

Sediment and Silt

Sediment and silt

Settles to the river bed

Collects on the floor of farm ponds

And measures in yards and miles

On ocean bottoms.

As the years roll up

The memories settle down

Like fine silt.

They become so deep

And so rich

That to attempt to discuss them

With anyone much younger

Almost seems sacrilege.

Almost seems too casually

Handling holy relics.

But it’s sediment and silt

That feeds the bottom lands

Along the delta

And it’s the luxury of memories

That enrich old age.

A man may teach all he knows

And leave in his wake

A legacy of keen tradition.

But the heart of memory lives

Silently

Collecting as

Sediment and silt

Reserved only for himself

In the quiet and dark hours

Of sweet old age.