glasses

i am twenty five and for the first time i admit aloud that i may need glasses. i look out my truck window in my thirty minutes of quiet during tonight's shift and the trees are indistinct. Every day the reality of my mortality settles on me. there is a sadness in my bones where before, however gripping, it had always been outside me. what is this half-colored time i have come into? i remember a year ago (how horrified i am at the swiftness of the months) sitting in the park on my first visit here - the stoic silence of the tall forest finding that I was outside the drawn-up bridge. racing now swiftly towards the end...i hope to reach some break in the current where i might slow my passage for a time.