Burial on the Solstice

The road is uphill
And the climb takes longer
“We’re older now”, he said
“And wiser”, I guess.
We work Mondays through Fridays
And Saturdays through Sundays
Schedules and appointments have replaced
Free spirited catch and chase,
Bicycle races and playground politics

Fingers were burnt
But the bandage stayed on: firm, unflinching
“We’re still the same”, he said
“And yet we’ve changed”, I guess.
We talk about the elephants in the room
And the gatekeepers of our hearts
We talk about parents, siblings and pets
And trees, clouds and the commute to work
And yet we don’t talk, not like that any more

It was twilight on a rainy day
We had burnt the letters of lovers, lost and found
“We’re going to be okay”, he said
“I sure hope so”, I guess.
The shovel was ready and the grave had been dug
So we decided to put it to rest
All that we never talked of
And all that we will never talk of
With a silent prayer in our heads

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