The Aging Migrants

The aging migrants think of their first home-place every day Though from there in distance they live far away Yet old memories bring to them moments of joy Of their happy times as a girl or a boy Some of them grandparents and some of them single and childless did stay But they share one thing in common from where they now live they were born and raised far away And in a nearby cemetery their last remains may lay Since death for all is inevitable only true to say Old memories of the past are all we have to recall And for each one of us there is a final Fall But on their flights of fancy the migrants often go home again Though of the what used to be only memories remain The biological clocks ever tick on and on And the past like all yesterdays in the forever gone.