Quite Bluntly

I saw his visage 

reflected in rear view

as he drove

driving a chill

over my entire being.

His face was my own,

the hair, cheekbones, eyes

exactly the same

but his alone

as another image


melded into his,

my reflection, projected,

fifty years forward,

a grey haired man,

deep lines etched

upon a large forehead,

tracks leading back to a time

that was now then.  

My back seat mate

jostled my elbow.

I looked up,

grasped  the moment,

took a long inhale

then passed him the blunt.


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