Growing

The time, always passing

Has left its touch

Upon our hearts.

We feel it in the

Way we tighten our lips

Turn our faces

Avert our eyes

It shows in the coldnesses

Our small and counted slights

Returned, unfailingly

In equally nonchalant ferocity.


Today, let's choose to cleanse this grime

Gently from our spirits

To remember the smooth current

Of companionship

Of camaraderie

Of friendship

And together, let us row this boat home.