Am I too old 
to find love again
Is the discovery of
love reserved for the
young and foolhardy who
skip leap and bound
headlong with nary a
care about tomorrow or
is love reserved for
middle age like a
table for two in
a fancy bistro next
to a window offering
sights of Parisians passing
while sipping a Cabernet
Where do the old
find love once again
Perhaps love for people
like me is found
on narrow orchard paths
in late Autumn amidst
plump apple trees basking
in what’s left of
summer’s warmth and remembering
what foolishness love was