I have this picture of me with my pal. He was eight years older. In the relationship I was the youngster, the student, the little brother. He was the wiser, the more mature, the mentor.
I’m now twice his age and then some. And wonder where time goes. And if there’s a memo regarding how to spend it. An order of things, so to speak. I don’t recall getting the memo.
There is the child and there is the man. When does the transformation happen? Does it always happen? Can you age and still have that outlook of wonder, of hope, of innocence, of forever?
All This By Hand
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