OLD MEN CAN TIME TRAVEL :: charlpntr :: Original Poetry

OLD MEN CAN TIME TRAVEL

I skinned my knee.

And in a flash I was

A twelve year old in cuffed dungarees

and PF Flyers,

Doing power slides and jumps

On a purple Stingray,

Through an dirt field,

Rusted with old tires, useless clothes dryers,

and tangles of trash.

I fell off and that pain tasted so good…

As I skinned my knee,

I felt like Evel Knievel.

My mom tugged my ear hard for

ripping my jeans.

Just like it was yesterday.

And I knew,

I was time traveling,

and it was real.

Memories are time travel,

Without the sadness of permanence.

My knee stings,

And I become a boy.

Not bad for a middle-aged man.

HG Wells would be proud.