He didn’t say it bothered him. His breathing generously gave it away.
This September man, sensing shadows from October.
Lately, he settled comfortably into contradictions, sleeping through fireworks and frowning at sunshine.
Too fast! Precious moments needed simmering.
Agonizingly slow! No spare hours wasted in waiting.
At this point, he understood the human heart.
Unlike the youth, knocking into each other and
judging by the measure of a heart beat.
Now, he recognized context, loyalty, exceptions.
Now, no tolerance for the ignorant,
For those blind to the pain cracking over the faces of friends.
At last, he could bathe in the ripples of joy, confined to silos.
He was crusty.
Crusty, coated in melted butter.

B.Toner. March 2023