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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