for tomorrow you can’t tell
sometimes they wondered how the bang that was the end of 2011 morphed into the pause they endured now, rumors and hushed bills aside. they woke late, mortgages and children and careers late into something degrees couldn’t interpret. sometimes they dipped into the college fund, sometimes they smoked weed, sometimes they spent nights looking at the bedroom ceiling and feeling like twenty with a cloudy future. sometimes they worked hard and gave their kids three, no, four servings of vegetables a day and traded their trucks for hybrids and their sodas for vitamin water.
but sometimes they wondered if it wasn’t enough,
waiting for the train.