The Sinking of the Times (Paper Boats 2.0)
We raced newspaper boats and let our feet hang,
Every year growing closer to the water,
Closer to the mist and hum of the stream beneath that old bridge.
Wrought iron rails painting rusted scars across our heels
While the wind hastened the shipping lanes
With a brother’s urgency.
I could never quite reach- but you,
You kicked up waves to crush my ship
And I got so mad, and you laughed
That damn laugh,
While my captain drifted into the deep,
Forgotten.
Conquered by a brother’s urgency.
A water burial for old news.
