I keep seeing older versions of me on the subway

I keep seeing older versions of me on the subway
A nicer coat with a brand that I’m clueless to
A streak of gray overcutting eyes that aren’t concerned

I whittled the minutes
Thinking of the next
Peeling them away
Putting them to rest

Flower petals on the well-lit floor
Lightly bucking with the tunnels
And didn’t see the young man
Pick one up and compare
It to his own smooth fingernails.