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