New Summer
Tina and me, We laughed as we sang the world in my car, small pieces bouncing off the pavement behind.
We sang as we drove and laughed at the words, blew smoke out the windows and made up our own.
We were as young as they were old. We bit our lips hard, surprised at the blood.
Countless sunsets to squander, million miles to misspend. When young and God-kissed, mark no time, see no end.
So we smiled our young teeth and bit-kissed young lips and lay tangled-tired and made up new summers.
Tina and me, blessed with youth, kissed by God, we would never grow old, driving toward a new summer
May we all be "driving toward a new summer." Liked this, Jim!
You can't really know something until you've experienced it. Youth can't know old age. Probably just as well...