Evening Thoughts

As the hues of the sky blend, do I not change?
The young know nothing and believe they know more.
The old know more and believe less.
When the wind blows, do I not quiver?
The young have nothing and trust without question.
The old question even themselves.
Now as the waves lap, do I not count the tides?
The young speak without thinking.
The old drown in their thoughts.
When the earth beckons, do I not die?

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