Childhood drips like molasses
Long summer afternoons ripple
One event pushes the next and all ripple outward
Concentric circles of dirt, skinned knees
and wiffle balls bouncing on the hot asphalt.
Clocks tick but alarms don’t chime.
Childhood lasts forever, doesn’t it?
We are teenagers between tears
Each day a Shakespearean drama unfolds inside of us
We share it with our theatrical voices,
our swords drawn to those who oppose us.
Do not mess with me!
My Juliette to your Romeo.
And the drama continues.
Adulthood is like skipping stones on a turbulent river
We jump, one slippery rock to the next.
Trying to be just one step ahead
but always ready to fall in.
Our ankles scraped, our toes wet, but unhindered,
we jump to the next slippery stone.
Someone is on the riverbanks cheering us on
but it’s hard to hear them through the sound of the wind.
Old age is like a waterfall.
All the water that has pooled begins to fall.
The water roars as you fall downwards into the rapids.
A little broken and very wet,
You navigate the choppy waters and
look to the placid lake at the end of the rapids.