The falling of the the dry leaves

I heard the old man sigh and groan
Seeing me no doubt brought back memories of his prime
He has known me since I was a mere suckling
All that is long past now
The sad reality for him now are aches and pain and sickness

My eyes were tearful
For I had been served a reminder
That the days will come when some of the things I strive for now will mean nothing
That even the loyal one may be in anguish
That I should make hay while the sun shines
The falling of the dry leaves of a tree is a serious warning to the green ones