When I was a boy

it was just the two of us

under that hot Utah summer sun, blazing high

the smell of rain and warm rabbitbrush

heaven a synonym for him, for afternoon

And when I was a boy

clinging to the fence

watching my best friend run away in real time

smaller and smaller through the wheat

until I couldn't pick him out from the horizon

And when I was a boy

crying in my bed

wishing with all my heart that I had gone with him

disappeared together into the wheat

instead of picking the coward's way of things

I'm no longer a boy

crying for the dead

but I still think of what could have been

if I had traveled through that rabbitbrush

if we had run away together

                                                                                                     when we had time