In the midst of a nostalgia attack, I was parsing through my treasure chest, looking at old photographs, birthday cards from high school and other paraphernalia when I came across this old poem I wrote for my good friend Ben Z. during a summer trip in Switzerland some 13 years ago. I seemed unaffected by the passage of time, even a little prophetic I should add. So here it is:
The night is falling to pieces
While our sun's rising
There's plenty of time to burn
Before we're put to sleep
Here's a last one
To you my friend
Let's be rising stars
Among fading lights
...
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