ARE WE TOO OLD TO HOLD HANDS A simple phrase, not simple as it sounds For all our age, calls back our younger years And leads us to the track where we were bound To enter tunnels where we left our fears And seeing nothing but the endless night And still the anguish holds us in its grasp Its mindless foibles biting like an asp The wonder that any love at all exists The rules they hammered into heads like fists We thought we lost those guidelines back in time They still exist in corners of the mind But all it took was one small glass of wine. Drew myself together, said loud and clear, "Am I too old to hold your hand, my dear?"