I saw six kids tonight
aged just slightly more than children
standing in line at the Krispy Kreme
their teen babyfaces shining at the prospect
of free donuts for 'A's' on their report cards.
Oh God, was I ever so young?
one so hairless and smooth cheeked?
'Times I feel like I am twice my age
not just flirting with thirty-three.
not one who's p'rhaps third-to-half already spent his life
(as the statisticians would suggest).
With the way that time flashes by
no sanguine stroll in it's Sunday best
But gasping as't furiously sprints past
in numbing, hard to believe,
four-minute-mile sort of pace;
soon my own children, boys and girl
will be standing expectantly in line somewhere
chatting happily with their own dates
young teens, the world their oyster.
Oblivious to the middle aged man behind them
who took such note of their naivete
(with a pensive half-hid smile).
Life and time is one Round
and after we fritter our stay living in t'ht circle
another carries it forward
another unborn child, the zygotes of zygotes;
a part of that thanatopsis
all of us each in turn
on or one sweet roll.