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Robert Lindner
It’s Sixty Years
In Nineteen Sixty-Four,
Sixty years ago, there was a new war.
And there have been a few
More wars. Humans will do
Wars. That’s not too hard to
Believe, when looking at the times before
And after we would be
Finished with high school. It’s our history
And our present and what
Was in between. And tis but
A shadow that will strut
Upon the stage, with the sound and fury
Of that play by Shakespeare
Which calls “tomorrow.” That’s what brought me here,
As it must bring us all,
If we are here to call
“Tomorrow,” when the fall
Has once more turned to winter. A New Year
Has begun. And we are
Sixty years older than in times now far
Away. But they were our
Times. And we would flower
Into a future, hour
By hour. Day by day. And our lucky star
Says Twenty-Twenty-Four
Is here. Of course, I’ll wish for many more
Years for everybody
In this history
That has reached this sixty
Year moment with me. But who’s keeping score?
Perhaps time is? Or not?
Since time goes on. Time doesn’t care about what
We will number the year.
Or how long we’ve been here.
Or about my career
Or yours. Or how many years we’ve still got
Left. Which is as many
As the fates choose to provide us. Sixty
Long years have come to pass
Since the year that our class
Graduated en masse,
Singing our songs to remind us that we
Belong together in
That world of memories that would begin
When we were young children
In school, growing up, then
Becoming the women
And men that we are now, watching the spin,
As earth goes round every
Day and goes around the sun until we
Have passed the New Year’s day
That’s brought us here to say.
“We’ve made it all the way
To mark the sixty years since our journey
Into adult life began"
Well, there was college study in my plan.
But now that’s history,
Too. Part of the sixty
Years that have passed since we
Graduated, once hoping that dreams can
Be our future. But fate
Would choose our path and now it is too late
To try again because
What is, is. And what was,
Was. There are space-time laws
To obey, but now I’m the graduate
Again, in memory
Traveling through my ancient history.
The Sounds of Silence play,
As we pass the New Year’s Day,
And time goes on its way,
And we sing time’s song, “what will be will be.”
And sing our school song too,
Sing, “ETHS, we will fight for you.”
In our celebration
Of our graduation
We can still have some fun
In the sixtieth reunion. Who knew?
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