* * *
Every Month,
A Poem Of Accounting Annotation
The calendar,
Like a picture of our place in time,
Hangs in silence
On a thumbtack in the wallboard.
We look at the dates
Wondering
What secrets are hidden
In those numbers of tomorrows
Which stretch like clotheslines
Where we hang the memories
Of the near past
As they grow sweet
Like fruit in the summer sun.
We mar the even squares
With the fading ink
Of our dreams and
Agendas for each today.
When all the days are drained
We tear off the month's page
And throw it away,
Or save it in a drawer
Intending
To revisit it at a later time,
But they become forgotten
Until after the memorial service
And the kids empty the drawer
To find our monthly
Receipt of how we spent our days
On our way
To eternity.
(c) Adron Dozat
* * * * *
I do not like to write poems that are unhappy. I would rather write about hope and faith in God's love but our mortality is a fact and each day draws us closer to our personal end. It is my purpose in this poem to remind us that time moves on and to challenge us to consider what we do with the days we are given.
Please see the sidebar for my best-loved poems, I am sure you will enjoy them too.
(c) Adron 8/14/16
