I try to live each day
In such a way
That when tomorrow makes today a yesterday
I will have woven into the fabric of my life
Some gay design,
Some patch of color,
Bright, to please the eye.
So that, in the graying years to come,
When all the quick responsive senses dull,
I may look back across the patterns of my past
And, in my memory,
Live the joys and pains
Of all my yesterdays.