Mist of a Memory

We needed to get further into our future.

There's a time in our lives where we're slipping between our days from being a child to becoming a confused adult.

We rocket like the Rocketman with Elton John. We think we're on this timeless flight, without any clue of whether we're really going to crash or land safely. An unknown feeling overcomes our mind, and we sense that safety may not be an option.

We find solace with our young comrades and maybe a crush or two.

We're falling towards the future, just like the baby turtles racing from the beach to the water.
 Do you think that the baby turtles feel the same rush as us? Do they feel the shadows of the birds of life that we can't express to anyone, either? But in comparison to them, the elders some- how have an idea, don't they?

Our minds are filled with teenage rage affairs that stab us again and again with all the passion- filled songs playing on the am radio. That's us, you and I. That's our future. Love, peace, flower power, right on, that's cool, right on man and you can totally dig it. Most of us survived that time warp, and a few didn't, and we miss those people. We miss their presence in our life.

Ten minutes then feels like ten minutes ago. Maybe that's why it's called a flash in the pan. We visit the experience, live through them, but our memories......, you know.

There were times when Penny and I rode horses crushing the sand along the water edge of Mission Bay with the am radio blasting the songs we like to sing along. 
 The smell, the taste of the bay water mixing with the sweat of the horse, the sounds of the leather binding, oh, it's the best cowboy sounds. There's a pretty girl, Penny, smiling, totally obliv- ious of the fact that young hearts are going to break all over the world, and it’s just the beginning like the baby turtles racing to life. 

That was my dream this early morning. Waking up to knowing I can reach my arm but only touch the mist of memory.

Wherever you are, Penny of San Diego...

MAYBE one day when we're old sitting in our "rocking chairs,".....that's where the time goes.

P.S. I promised my fb editor I would wait till Sunday to post, but she's not here, and it's only Thursday. :)

Derek Wolf

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