Time can be cruel, and depressing, even. But it offers so many metaphors.

Older Than I’ve Ever Been

(with thanks to They Might Be Giants)

Stiff, dried out boards

encased

in half-cured leather

that’s how those old bones

creak and moan

in every kind of weather

world is blurry

lenses buried

underneath the crust

outer surface

flaking away

like sheet metal rust

sure, I’ve seen

a thing or two

for all the good it does me

I need the red dirt

crying out for these tones

for all the world,

like

it loves me

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