Prima fugit

Optima dies prima fugit.

-Vergil, the Aeneid

The days are

Scattering like

The seeds of

A dandelion

That God blew on

To make time.

Cool summer nights

Cruising down Summit

With an ice cream cone in hand,

You two are there and we’re laughing,

And we’re not thinking about how like sand

These moments are, How they slip through our fingers

And then are lost forever, How we never realize the value of time

Until it passes, how you only visit your grandmother once she’s ten feet

Under the ground. And soon we’ll be in desks, and thinking about ourselves

Instead of moments, and then it’ll all be over, this whirlwind, and I’ll say goodbye,

And you two will both have boyfriends, and I’ll travel back into the darkness and see

Nothing there but blown-on dandelions.