Rewind Water

you can’t rewind water—
it runs past you
like it’s late for something

men try anyway,
with photos,
with whiskey,
with stories that get softer
each time they’re told

but the river doesn’t care
how beautiful you once were
or how close you came
to figuring it out

it just keeps moving—

and somewhere in the current
there’s a version of you
laughing too loud,
still alive,
still not thinking