Three Times Old

Three fat bums on the shore,

As two big creaks roar.

One is the sunset shared

Among the wrinkles unrepaired.

Three are the friends for life,

Two are the bottles of wine,

One is the bell that chimes

To take us back to the olden times.

How three ankles had tapped away!

Two at a time in the gateways.

One is the song that now plays

From those bygone days.

Three were the footsteps in the sand

Two waves had splashed so grand.

One human chain with our hands

Jumping up and down the land.

Three hands waving the air,

Two claps on the radio player,

One long drive through the rain,

That’s music on the window pane.

Now three times old are they,

Two of their tattoos say,

One will they be in catacomb

They are always each other’s home.