Retro fit

Ghost eyes stare back at me

The young man I was, dead.

Screaming, I have stood here

watching time rake its claws

to leave valleys and scars

on the landscape of boy.

I reflect. Days engorged.

Adventures without care,

bluntly optimistic

endless summers. Hazy.

Countless mayfly corpses.

Fearful I turn away

from the reflected lies

and look back. I look back.