Maybe I'm just getting old.
I'll always be 27 in my own mind even though my driver's license tells a different story.
Still I can't help reading those articles in The Times
About all those people over 50 who couldn't land a job if their lives depended on it.
That isn't me and I know it isn't you.
While you're a little younger, we both come from a generation
Where failure is not an option
And every day you pick yourself back up and throw yourself against the rocks
And maybe play a little music or write some poetry on the side.
Because you and I both know that to pause and to stop and to yield
Is to crumble into the sands of time and oblivion.
So let's celebrate another year of life by walking down to the river tonight
And playing our guitars
Until dawn, young and new,
Bathes our faces in light.
Sept. 6, 2016