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Sipping coffee on the porch
in the sun.
The bitter taste
matches the feel of the sun on my skin.
Acidic.
Dry.

I hear the children in the rose garden before I see them
And then I see their three little heads
Bobbing as they run
Single file through the thorns

I take a drag of smoke
And can feel
A new wrinkle cracking across my face
Some days are like this
Staring at the ash at the end of the cigarette

The children are now in full sight
Cackling with glee
Bounding over the rocks
Unstoppable

I grew up here
I remember doing the same
Overturning rocks,
finding lizards
chasing cats, dogs,
trying to ride the neighbor's horses
For ten years I did this

And now I'm a young man
A term offering me the future
But giving nothing
Save the promise of age