Late November - A Poem

NOTE: I'm not really much of a poet, but I used to think I was and occasionally I feel the need to write a poem and I I like this one.

I know where I was 8 years ago on this date
In more detail than I know where I was yesterday
An awkward silence in a pretty girl’s car in a drive way that’s neither of ours
she’s waiting for an ex-boyfriend
I’m waiting for the same guy
But we didn’t come together
Good byes are awkward when they’re one sided and someone is still digging in

“Don’t let her in my funeral” But I did anyway
About two weeks later
I wonder if he was capable of caring then

But that night, we were both alive
With a vegetarian Thanksgiving that was still undigested in our guts
And with an interruption from two other pretty girls and maybe couple of pals (I can’t remember)
Her goodbyes were cut short and I rushed him out the door and we drove into the night with nothing good on the radio

I suppose we didn’t need it right then
But then Link Wray saved my life shortly thereafter

so that there would be someone left to remember
that being young can well be the end of it
and growing old isn’t guaranteed

The rest of the night is just a movie montage
that is becoming shorter each year
but I don’t need to every detail
to remember it was good and that good byes are awkward when they’re one sided and someone is still digging in