Until I’m old…

When I grow up I will be old,

but little else will be different

I remember dreaming at night,

like running will still be easy

but maybe I won’t want to

run as much as I do now,

I don’t remember thinking

about choices or school,

having more or less money,

hair loss, getting fat, or sex;

and everyone would still be

alive but they wouldn’t and

I didn’t realize it back then,

there’d be sunny summer days

with baseball games and

watermelon but no mosquitoes

and bees would stay near the

flowers and leave me alone

while I ate hot dogs and

salty potato chips, and drink

fruit punch like it was beer,

and far off into the future

it might be scary to be me

like the year two thousand

when I’d be forty years old

if I ever lived that long.