THREADS

We had those times,
back when we were kids,
summer nights on
the block, talking about
things, and what the
future held,

we were young then,
with impossible dreams,
the less fortunate living
by the thinnest thread.

time,
the mortar and pestle,
grinding away connections
we may have once thought
essential, but in it truth,
we are set free.

To share
the same road for a time,
is a gift, but the journeys
we seek are only one's
own to fulfill.