The world turns and we who are left turn with it.
We survivors are the old.
Our children, gone before us , wait.
To welcome us, the ancient to their door.
Positions reversed they take charge
Greet us gladly, smooth our way.
They are the guardians, the path finders the nurturers.
Not yet ready to leave this life
I still have work to do
But when my time on earth is done
My children and my dogs will greet me
I will be the child
They the parent, the guide, the welcomers, the comforters.
The circle turned.
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