Last Time

Push, pull, moan, grunt
and complain all you want
Just do it from down here
in the writer's trench with me

I can't stand to have you sitting there
Legs over the edge
telling me the dirt I'm throwing
isn't coming fast enough

I'll boost myself up
Wipe my forehead with a sleeve
grin and have a Coke
Ask you how it's goin

We'll crumble thoughts
and swat at flies, wondering
away the afternoon together
Leaning on an elbow, looking up

Then you'll leave and I'll jump down
to watch you walk away
Knowing that we'll surely talk again
We won't

There's a last time for everything