It took longer than any of us expected,
our children were older than we were
and theirs were older still.

I remember the fortune in your cookie
urging you to be like water and you said
who has that kind of time?

The soles of your boots are worn right through
at the place where the weight of the world
meets the road that carried us here

all those footsteps, all that leather,
all those people we used to be, they cling
like shadows and hide when we turn.

Did you ever think, I ask, and no, you say,
you never did, and we blink like mole people,
blinded by the light,

both of us knowing we got it all wrong,
you with your gun, me with my bowl,
you with no bullets, me with no spoon.