Two Chris Cross Paths
By Christian Wills
Yesterday you were my Saturday morning cartoon. Today, you’re the elevator music that fills my background. Remembering the times you played in the back of my mind, yet I can barely remember the words you used to sing. Foreign to the beat of your drum, how we walked, skipped, flew, far away from this world. Two kids acting as vigilantes. Our
superhero days are now retired and long-gone. Capes replaced with
college textbooks that can’t save the memories of a friend. You and I,
baptized as Christian, identified by this religion, but Christ! I’m not sure
who you are anymore... Even if I caught wind of your new show, you’re
next airing couldn’t bring back the reruns that have escaped my programming.