It’s not time yet,

I said to myself.

Wasn’t ready to just

recall a single moment.

A lot of life ahead of me,

don’t want to let go yet.

But they’re all out there,

waiting, nostalgic faces,

now foggy memories, sweet

reckonings of my past.

Do you remember when

we laughed hanging out

on Fern Island, just wasted?

I remember saying,

I want to do bongs on my death bed.

See now that’s a moment I can’t talk about.

Yet.