Edge of the Hill

Whencesoever did our pages flip over?

We need not remember,

memories of our hearts’ joy live forever.

Even atimes where little was what we had,

abundance of time and youth replenished.

We lived for moments beyond;

if we weren’t free-falling from the sky like a bird,

we leapt off a bungee through each second.

If we weren’t sliding over bodies of water,

we rode its waves like a water skier.

All for thrill, the catch remains in the together.

Our friendship bonded over times;

no worser Quebecois terrains haven’t we driven,

what sharper bends to nowhere than St. Damién,

those shameless chatty drunk nights of walk

in the streets of old Ottawa,

crossfaded times we played games in Niagara.

After all, our ties got knot in a house of prayer.

Times, we could defeat,

age and duty, we couldn’t.

Bucket-list now lays to waste,

as our journeys are now solo or for couples.

We have lived, now is to surviving.

I only pray, as we age, we outgrow adulting.

I will forever long, once-more

to ply the roads we have yet to know, more,

the Sheeran’s lyrics we lip-synced to before,

the new cities we have to explore,

the new friends we carried along,

inside jokes we shared from every adventure.

Today, one's seed has brought forth Asher,

nuptial’s is about to make the second a father,

far out somewhere in France is another,

the other seeks to do business together,

and everyone else has aged but me.

I remain at the edge of the hill,

as I wait to jump, who else will?