Member-only story
Two Years
Jan 5, 2021
Years old, but I hardly know you,
living twenty before me
and thirty-odd since.
For eighteen we orbited the same
room, but you have to take back a third
of that for sleep. Out of twelve, reclaim
four more for school; hack off six for
work and friends. That leaves just two years
spread over nine times the procession.
That’s all we have; little glimpses
into the rotoscope of our stop motion
animation; all those moments mattering
most flick before our ready pocket
full of quarters. What will you do
with your two years, loose change
of quick words and wry smiles?
Write them down, scratches that fill
an obituary someday for us all to remember.
© Trapper Markelz 2021
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