The Growns

I’m unsure of when it happened,
It came from out of nowhere,
This moment when everyone
I know, was grown.

We used to drink together

in dark secret places,
joking and giggling at
the absurdities of being grown.

“I don’t want kids, I don’t want

that life, a house, a wife. I want to tour Europe,
go to China, see things, do things,
drink in Amsterdam, screw in Israel,
I want that elusive marrow from the bones of
a life spent in amazing pursuits,” we’d
shout.

Then they met them, other growns,

and started these lives of purpose,
with marriage, children, homes,
family vacations, pictures of
babies cuddling with puppies.

They had picnics and parties,

that ended too early, they had
traditions of family to adhere.
They grew and grew and were
just suddenly, grown.

Now I drink alone, out of touch,

out of the loop, with misty eyes
looking backwards at once was.
Somehow feeling left out, of what
it’s like to be grown.