Missed Summer

Guess I missed summer again. Guess I didn’t mind… But then I remember that’s a lie too. All those teenie baby smiles on his little face, all those it’s-gonna-be-alright embraces, all the laughter and the sun, all those moments to take it all in, …and every single time I wished for someone far away and felt it all the way through. That counted too. 

Count the ways in which a season slips by in the way you don’t expect. And I will love you from faraway forever more; old friends that have been lost. Old roads and signs - and that strange wonderful night in November — they wait and they age, and we take a new risk tomorrow instead. We meet another. 

Wouldn’t I love to say something stunningly new now. Wouldn’t it change the course of fate by mere typing….with a slig of bourbon and gulp down of humidity, here we go. Here the dreams come true. Here upon this, and here upon next. And what was I saying? Ah hell another swig… 

Cause memories all sound better this way, and we do better as adults these days. We love and we teach and play with the kids cause they’re all precious things that age. Then you realize what you said — that you grew up. 

But you’re the same. 

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Down the road

That same song was playin’, as I looked out at the early evening city and took a breath — of finally cooling air, in, atop the drying dust of the day and mud on old shoes… And I thought about what I used to hope for. That it was disappearing… in the slow lane going down the highway — with this heaviness and this new patience, it was on the journey to gone for quite some time past and now…Gone. Maybe that was finally alright. Maybe I could smile about it, cause now I'm free of it, of being trapped inside your own wish, that's failing after every risk. Maybe it was after, after all. 

Cause the hot late-summer blood in my veins, it feels like the best of who I was before everything…went differently. Differently we go after so many chances, and we let this beautiful life change us. For love, for passion, for epic unexpected thought-it’d-work nights. Ah, but the nights… Fail again into something great, lay next to me, and maybe we’ll just remember the trace of moments I know this tired body has embraced, under the stars —— and let it come alive anew — jumping-into-their-arms without looking back kind of way…

…I could go for that kinda’ choice tonight, I think, as I get back in the car and turn right for home. For running into something, for risking the full throttle of what we have of roaring insides still. Still, after another day that felt like a year, burning alight a night, before that call at dawn — could be something. Really something we could have. Something for the next day. 

For now I’m not sure of the next words — I forgot them all this long strange summer along with everything — and now it tickles on my fingertips and the questions not asked on my lips, to talk of everything next. So what is everything now? Maybe tomorrow I’ll know… cause suddenly it’s all catching up and I’m tired. Letting the eyelids fall with the Book of Then put to bed. The hopes that never were that don’t survive. Everything that went differently…even in the place, that deep forest, that I loved, where I fell in love all those years ago — there was nothing to feel of before. There the hopes fell into the sand and I didn’t notice. 

So goodnight to that ever after and this tiresome day, there’s a beautiful morning coming in hours, even if I just sleep till then and wait…



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