Boston To Austin
It’s all good, it will be
The printer will print
Will that settle the soul?
For now anyway?
It’s not about the TV
Or the lack of furniture
Or worry about money
Or who likes you or not
It’s about perspective
How to understand what happens
In the wide open space
That is life, the future
It’s what we can control
the wisdom of age
And how that feels condescending
But it’s not; it’s experience
It’s speaking through time
So annoying to the young
“You don’t get it” echoes
Through generations and family lines
It’s the blankness in spaces
Between one life
And the successive beings
who push and pull
Until they split off, a separate orbit
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