In Memory of the Future

I remember my solitude
as it will be five years forward.
Much like an isolated rabbit
ever watchful for his next predator,
I wait for you.

Ten years ahead, I’ve developed
a nervous tic in my neck
from constantly looking back.
My eyes are blurred and shadowed
with the impossibility of age.

Fifteen years in my future,
I surrender to my destiny
and forgive my hesitancy
in living my life each day.
I fear you’ve already left
even before you arrive.

After twenty years, it barely matters
since my thoughts migrate
regularly without season.
I watch the calendar and wonder
which day will be my last,
but I finally understand

you will be there then.