Fifteen years ago
friendships found, yet not bound.
I see these names, yet cannot connect
pictures to them.
they do not register like they once had.
Recording dreams as if they were
some portent to my soul.
Superficiality in the shallow end.
In over your head
is for those unafraid to swim.
Poems and songs, endlessly in love
written for the changing of the seasons
as next door neighbors turn to ash.