London Poem: Day 277

21 May

It is your day,
As far as I know.
The supple curves of the
Numbers telling me the day,
Each look like familiar little
Gusts of memory; those little,
Tiny things that wash over
And out before the mind moves
Quick enough to understand.
Ah, but the fact remains, it’s
Your day, with people coming
From all around the world to
Share their joy in you.
I, so far, can only think
Of these things, and know
They will not find you today.


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