This is how it goes:
First it's the end of school, then it's work and lovers and then foreign adventures and soul-searching and mid-life crises with kids and partners and divorce and newspapers with silence over breakfast; eggs sunny-side up and black with one sugar please. And, it's 9 to 5 and the morning crew on FM between traffic jams and fantasies about anybody but the person you sleep with and lie to.
Then it begins to fade like a photo thats been leftin the midday sun and dusk is coming, slow but steady, and now we are walking like we're treading in buckets of warm honey and the vision blurs - was that last week or 2002?
Soon it doesn't matter because we don't remember much at all and rest is a short breath between stairs that don't seem to end and now, on the deathbed, preparing to leave at long last, there is a flash - a burst of colour and sound -
It is a face, a friend from school and the two of you are smiling and talking about the future; wondering aloud of God and life while lying back on grass and staring up at the clouds that pass overhead like ghosts from tomorrow that answer all of your questions in between stabs of heat from the sun that hangs up there and will outlast us all.
