Fifty-one

There are years that crawl and years that fly
Years that succeed where others can but try
Some years are bursting at the seams
While others scarcely have the means

I’ve known the years that stick, or change
The years at home and years that range
Sometimes the years are bold and bright
While other years stay black as night

With fifty-one years laid to rest
The last was walked in valleys low
A year that put me to the test
A shadow out of which to grow