We sit with sandwiches and talk about the cheese
or the way things used to be, old homes, the weather
and the city or how the trees give us oxygen
but not enough for us to breathe 
and try the re-try of ditching the yesteryear to
return to promise of whatever’s left
before the silence finally consumes 
and we become living relics
just nods and ‘Sure’s’ and Yeahs
and Yeah and
all there’s to say is that we tried and failed
Say-nothings into do-nothings 
Father-son’s into guys and dudes
Brother-bro’s into men
Mothers-Children into wanderers lone and 
longing; lost resigned.