The hours are seldom heard passing
But pass they do
In sleek fitting jackets and earth-toned shoes
Down the streets we never imagined
Each step shaking the air between itself and our ears
As if trying to wake the earth from its dream
Screams we will never hear above the raucous laughter
We haven fallen too far, too quickly to sleep
Each sunrise breaking dawn for empty seats
Swelling with glory of which we have forgotten the taste
There are goosebumps on my tongue well worth remembering
There are apple pies and turkey dumplings
The sound of leaves breaking beneath my feet
There is a chill in the air only the hours know
It is the air I have learned to breathe