WILD WORDS
Somewhere you are dying, a path crossed
remembered and lost – sweet moments sculpted,
an innocence now seasoned with perspective
from other places. We did not know it,
did not believe the obvious,
and did not care what others thought.
More like fish than the mast lights of ships
passing on an empty sea, more like swimming
parallel for awhile in a current of our own
making. Will you remember when you wonder
on your death bed, when you are tired of life,
and will you smile at all the things we said?
Not every face has a name anymore, some
I’ll never forget. But we stirred the waters
with words, wild words, for a moment.