50 years

in that time,
I’ll take some chances.
boats, maybe a mountain
a stream
a dog

oceans will be crisscrossed
carbon neutrality will be discussed
the indefinite will be ascertained
circumstances will be evolving
edible items will be eaten.

friends will come,
go,
stay,
leave,
die. that last one scares me.

hurt will be near
fear will be present
resentment will be rough
suffering will be scattered
battering will take place.

flames will blossom
tenderness will caress
amity will take care
cherishment will breathe
gratitude will descend.

and,
years will turn pages
electronic or otherwise
into books and collections
and some sort of masterpiece.

to rush it
would be to miss
those fifty years
of experiences
worth writing about.