Children measure it in feet,
Breaking down every inch
Into halves, quarters;
Counting each line on the ruler
Until the edge is reached
And then they start over.
Adults read it on an odometer,
Anticipating that next oil change,
That next tune-up;
And these miles multiply fast
If they don’t pay close attention,
Which they seldom do.
2 comments:
100! What a long, strange trip it has been. It's my birthday tomorrow, hence this poem's theme, so I'll be taking the day off.
BOOYA! Congrats man, a day off is well deserved. Happy birthday. I've been feeling old as hell myself these days. It is interesting how true/relevant the last line is.
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