You were just another face in all my days
one more to which I'll have to say goodbye
from the other side of the one-way veil
when my final end is met on the long march

I've seen the young faces that give me hope
when those my age seem to deny the same
bitterness at what's been now lost to them
weighs on my heart while the saplings compensate

with those my age would seem to be my fate
though my world may appear different
angst becomes the companion I can't shake
when self owned loss is a shared malady

I've traveled on these roads far many miles
accumulated the dust heavy on my boots
now I long to lay down my heavy head
bidding your youth goodbye when I pass away.

2017. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20170705.

The date is printed orange
in the bottom right hand corner
of my very favorite picture.
     It's from two-thousand and eight

And, as my cramping legs keep ambling
every gavel foot falls faster than
the one that fell before.
     I'm wondering
where the Hell the years have gone.

You were all brown eyes and wide white smiles.
I was all youthful bravado.
As your laughter swelled to confidence,
I was sinking straight down to the bottom.

And the water rolled on past us,
          Goose Creek
swelled with the Summer run-off...
Tell me where did all this time run off to?

The moon is looming large
in the hazing, ashed-out corner
of my wine-enchanted eyeball
     on this too-typical night.

And every hyphen lends some extra space
to staggered breaths as I recall your face.
Now I'm spelling out
     my own verdict:
defendant's moving to convict.

I don't know the final cost.
     But I got enough memories
to say what future I still have,
     well it sure ain't coming free.

I got enough memories now
     that I don't know where I will be
when a year is just a yawn and a sigh,
     and you're still lodged
     deep down inside of me.

You were brown eyes' living confidence,
I was yellow, fading cowardice.
I know you were the better one,
and I've always been scraping the bottom.

And the water stalled beside us,
          Red Riv-
-er choked with Winter ice blocks.
Don't know why I was so dumb and frozen.

But thanks
     for believing
          all those years.

Time has a way of rushing past
It has a way of disappearing.
With time how it is, we need to take advantage of it.
Don't let it fly away
Hold onto it as long as you can
Love who you can, while you can
Do what you want to, not always what you have to
Don't let time be a memory
Live in it while you can
Because soon it'll all be gone.

It just rained.

The sky is pale blue and
the wind is surely pleasing.
I might just think that the weather is perfectly made for me.

I see some tables and chairs,
some drinks and snacks,
some variety of people
I only see during this time of the day
and only during this kind of weather.

It's 6 PM and
it's almost as dark
as the deepest of the night.
The sky now is indigo blue
and the moon is already peaking.
It's smiling.
And god, what I'd do to smile like that.

I see drinks, I am holding a cup of rootbeer
while my friends hold a cup of red horse.

We talk about life, and how scary it is to live;
we talk about ending it, and the many ways we could consider trying;
we talk about enduring it, and how strong we are to have ourselves survive 'til today;
and we talk about staying, just because we're still here.

Though we're barely breathing,
we are here,
and just like the moon tonight,
with the cup of rootbeer in my hand
and with the cup of red horse they have,
we are smiling.

It's almost 8 PM and
the wind is still as pleasing.
It's touching my skin
and
it gives me a different feeling.
I see hands holding a grip to its last cup of beer;
I see eyes looking down, sleepy;
I see eyebags which I guess I can say as deep as the night;
I see crooked teeth;
I see imperfection.

Though we are as imperfect,
we are smiling,
we survived,
we're on our way home
with car lights reflecting on our faces.

We wave goodbye to the bottle of beer for two and my rootbeer.
We made it through the night.