Temporal

This is about watching a young lade come of age

When I was leaving
you were still
a seed, yet to be.
When May I was budding
you were just nascent,
in springs early morning sun.
Now I am in fall
late afternoon;
the suns long rays
dapple me with shadow.
And here you are in full,
sunny, early June, bloom;
your petals pursed
expectantly like lips
waiting for the bees kiss.
While I have gone to seed,
left to fallow;
wild and unweeded.

Temporal,
we could never be any more.
We share the same earth,
but not the same equinox.