No Benedict Arn-young.

While sitting on a bench in the park after midnight
On a radiant and very warm purple skied summer night
After a pleasing round of searching for sea life with a very good flashlight
Two kids approached me and asked me for some weed.
Funny thing it was for me to be in that position.
It warmed my heart at twenty seven years old to see the torch always passes;
Long ago I had found myself in such shoes exactly often,
Sneaking out to have fun in the AM hours on school nights,
So you can guess what I did.
The memory of sneaking out pre-my-era-of-doing-so, once at a younger age
And finding a man with a hook for his hand shimmering in the moonlight
Piercing through the leafless trees in fall above him, lives on
And was something I had thought about when they left.
Stroking (still new to me) gray hairs on my chin at 27 I considered their inquiry right
And I remarked to them it didn’t seem so long ago.
Before they left we burned a little weed.
They thought I was cool.

Flagofthetalliban - Copy - Copy_bak_bak - Copy (4) copy.jpg


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