Tonight,
for the first time,
I feel like my age
when my friends describe me
as an "old soul."

My bones feel hollow--
like glass in an oven,
my breath shallow--
a shadow fading in an overcast.
Ancient lessons drool
out of my mouth,
a tired tongue parched
and dry from the sands of time.

My mind yearns for "good 'ol days"
so far in the future
it seems like the past.

But gasoline has been poured
over my campfire harmony heart.

I'm just getting started.