Ticking off the
calendar
With the advent of New year
a new born elm, a smile always
welcoming all in the household,
looking at the corners of every page
a calendar in each room, a visage
of Messiah,holding
numbers in wand;
some dates crossed for bringing tears
some dates marked highlighting events
happening and harkening, soft touch
is the heal. A
new face, new laminated bulk
new beckoning,
yet effacing old memories
impossible; a straight horse jumping into field
crossing all barriers, thistled hoofs, high jumps
over bush,
speeding fast to an unknown
destination; fog clogging nose and pathway;
wind across
window pane, calendars
fritter and
face ordeal of hands and push.
They have a special place on the wall.
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