The houses just don’t seem as bright;
their grasses aren’t as green
as they used to be in my younger sight,
and as the daytime turns to night
each hour kills another sheen.
From all I’ve lost, I’m able to see
the life and death of every shade
from every cloud and withered tree;
I see them changing constantly,
and as I walk past quietly
I feel myself degrade.
I recognize each choice I’ve made,
and I ask myself if the growing fade
follows after me.
Chase Maser is a poet and freelance writer based in Los Angeles, CA. He received his undergraduate degree in Creative Writing from UCLA in 2017, and he is currently the cofounder of a literary nonprofit called Philosopher’s Stone Poetry Co.
This article was featured in Matter Thoughts Issue 1 – Horizons