Me on X-country skis in the White Mountains of Arizona, circa 1981.  It’s been 30 years.  That blows me away…

Let it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten,

Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold,

Let it be forgotten for ever and ever,

Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.

If anyone asks, say it was forgotten

Long and long ago,

As a flower, as a fire, as a hushed footfall

In a long forgotten snow.

                                                       —Sara Teasdale