Two days to declare a year.

My heart beats sullen,

Naming every missed warning sign;

I denied with great success but to none was there ever a prize so rotten. 

Two days to remember

The three hundred before us!

Those few highs and many lows, that hold tightly still– 

Right here and right now.

Subtlety, alas not our most charmed characteristic,

But as with all, time helped us forgive and with that forget

Questions of why.

And the slow, tragic drain of those spiraling thoughts 

Ceasing without end…

Until, a nearing now.


© jklarayne, 2018