Cereal

I opened the box—

the same cereal from college days.

I thought I could retrace the ways

I used to taste.

Poured it in a bowl,

the milk, and my whole

goal was to feel twenty again,

but the taste came and then

it was cardboard. Sweet and stale.

The memory began to fail

as soon as the spoon hit

my mouth. Not what I'd gotten

before. The sweetness turned

to something I've learned

tastes like loss. Like time.

Like a small crime

I committed by growing up.

I finished the cup

anyway. Each bite the same—

a familiar shame.