Not-Young ...

I've missed some things.

But honestly, life's too all-around-me & fast

to not  miss some things.

Every scene ever behind my head

I've missed: I turned once to

catch the throat of a noise

or spark of a bright light and

simply swapped what half-world

was lost on the faceless back of my head.

Missed a few passing seconds once

where I might maybe have done

something super-precious,

and then missed hours

in the months beyond then

imagining “Wow, I could have...”

Missed so many trades of affection—

like, evasively dodged  them—

because I or they were shy, or proud,

or obsessed with looking like

we deserve “better”

(like anything's better than “real” is).

And now I'm not-young.

But honestly, life's too over-flowing & oncoming

to not race past young...