Turning Out
When we’re young, we all say, at one point in time:“I fucking hope I don’t turn out like my parents.”
But here I am
Wearing a baggy graphic t-shirt,
Little jogging shorts,
And a pair of moccasins
Sitting in the deep sigh of evening
Lightning striking on the blue mountains
Summer heat fading like a dream
Smoking big girl medicine in my left,
And the whole day, unpacked and raw, in my right
Like she was when she was my age
In a old, disposable camera picture that she pulled out
When I was young, at the age that didn’t understand that
the 80’s wasn’t all that long ago.
Poetry by Dark Matter
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Written on 2022-09-01 at 05:50
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