Ode to My 8,000

Goodbye, 8,000 days—

the years they made will not go 
down my book unmissed.

On my 22^nd year, let the wolves,

snakes, and rats fester on

my pesky romantic schemes.

Goodbye, 8,000 unicorns, wizards, 

my timeless friends outside 

the unavoidable door. I am grateful 

for your transient wishes.

We drank to the final vestiges

of ignorance and recklessness

youth entitled us to live.

Goodbye, 8,000 visions and tricks

and what seemed like a bright idea

but was just another stolid plan

hackneyed too many times.

I’ve acquired the stuff of machines,

chased the green light beyond the bay

and drowned in the ebb of ambition.

Goodbye, 8,000 tales and lullabies,

to nights of sleep filled with dreams.

Goodbye, 8,000 sunrises that do not

sore my eyes when I wake.