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
