God Speed

This is a goodbye, for myself, to those travelers who tip their hats to me as they pass by and out of my line of vision. For the strangers who bring me a laugh and a story before dissapearing forever out of the reach of my senses. For those many harvests that yeild only a small ammount of fruit before autumn; a small ammount of very sweet fruit. For those who will never leave a solid imprint on my memory, and fade out of all relative existance within only a few seasons. And although all harvests must eventually be reaped and destroyed, this is for those especially temporary ones. To all of you, goodbye; and from all of you, goodbye as well.

"…son can you play me a memory? I’m not really sure how it goes…but it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete, when I wore a younger man’s clothes…"