TIME, GENTLEMEN, PLEASE ...

I find it incredibly sad to delve into old photograph albums and be reminded of how swiftly time passes and how rapidly a fresh faced youth becomes a tired old man.

The theme of Guernsey's June Open Mic event is "Time" and, had I been able to take part, this is one of the poems I would have read.  
 

SNAPSHOT

A dapper man, old fashioned hat,
formality in clothes and stance,
and by his polished shoes, a cat,
as he glares at the lens, askance.
It must be after the Great War
in Nineteen Twenty-Three or Four.

My grandfather. I only knew
him in his sad, declining years:
a dodderer, with tie askew
and all too quickly moved to tears
perhaps for what we all must lose
that cannot be restored by booze.