I Know How You Got Old

Read the play in the spring

Thought a lot about God's role in suffering

And all...all of the millions of times.I heard the news in July

Had no symptoms, only the reasons why

All...all of those lost, sacred rhymes were lies.I had imagined it mattered which reasons to use

But winter brought nothing but all the bad news we could bear

Could hardly bearHeard your voice through the glass

Felt you standing at every slow street I passed

And then...then I was standing alone.I strained to think what you said

To remember the last couple lines you read

And grinned...grinned with the grace of a saintI had imagined the best way to deal with the blow

We stood on the lawn and we sang in the snow

How I wanted God to knowI know how you got old.