My, we were yar

We have now become
the grown ups.  Old unidentified
man lingers still in a frame
of teenage boys, sixteen or
seventeen years old, their lives
stretching out before them like
pristine canvases of luck.  Here
we all are fate and time jumbled
into what we now call our life.
Someone had a camera and the
shutter opened and closed,
catching us and holding fast to
candid moments in our lives,
caught forever as we never thought
we’d be.  Wrinkled, wearied, worn,
wavering somewhere between youth
and capitulation to time.