Tally marks on life’s wall,
One, two, three, four,
Strike through.
Depressing mostly,
Days and year
In review.
Who likes to see
The wall gouged so,
Not I.
But inevitability,
Like the strikes,
Circles the calendar,
We go on.
The one day,
The only one,
(apart from birthdays!)
When a settled desolation
Holds heart in its hands
And questions all.
Strike this one through,
Willingly,
Bearing in mind,
That the very young,
Hope constant in their hearts,
Needing no reminder,
Celebrate new years
And birthdays
As growth marks
On the way forward.
Perhaps we have just forgotten,
Every day,
Even this one,
Is a gift.
So I’ll dance
With the very young,
Partake of their libation,
Joie de vivre,
Happy in all days
And years.
Tally marks unknown.
scottishmomus 