Like a window closing
Or a door swinging closed much too quickly
The vacuum of the spaces building as freshness ends
Youth fading reality
Like our earliest memories – blurring
Or old photographs from grandma’s picture box
Restorative and preservation measures
Becoming as tired and old as the subject
Formative years ebbing, time speeding forward
Friends appearing much too adult, too old, too worn
Their children hiding shit from us, distrusting
Our words frightening ourselves to death
Our choices are to ride it out gracefully
Fight it with all our energy and resources
Or delude ourselves eternally
Like a window closing
Or a mighty tree falling
Night falls without warning or remorse
