He watched as the day went into setting mode, the clouds is gradually withering its brightness.
The sun is moving farther towards the west.
The two winged creatures of the sky are finding their way back to their abode in masses.
Like returning warriors, the mother hen is leading her chicks back to their owners’ quarters.
Welcoming pleasantries are been exchanges in houses.
The multitude of young boys playing football on the field reduces in numbers; mothers calling their wards back home.
The men playing “draft” are dusting their caps, calling it a day.
Those scenarios does trigger a memory recap.
It’s no doubt that, the once bright and young day is successively passing away. So is the life of men.
His almost useless legs, eyes paired with glasses to enable vision, gray hair; they are not different from the signs of an ending days.
The beauty of life is enjoyed at youthful days; and the understanding of life is gotten at the days of wrinkles face.
As his granddaughter wheeled him into the house, he affirmed very well saying “the strength of the youth will always be in the youthful age”