Wednesday, July 31, 2013

Calendar, a poem


The calendar is two months off,
unflipped pages reminding me

of how little time matters as day
follows nameless day. The sun

rose this morning and it will
rise tomorrow and August can call

itself June. I like the picture
for this month. I’ll look at it

a while longer and maybe let
September be June, too. Why not?

Stephen Brooke ©2013

a bit of musing pretending to be a poem

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