Some days I release my thoughts in poetry, sometimes just poetic thoughts. My sister told me once I think in syncopation. It may be true. I like the offbeat places in life and play with it at times.
The piece below, written as we inched into the New Year, is like that and suited my mood.
I get told how young I look and act, but time passes, things change. Some days, I worry about the future. We age, life fades, fears arise. Other days determined, I announce I’m 20 still and all life’s possibilities are mine to own. For now, poetic words can have their day. Let’s see what spring will bring my way.
Christmas, tinsel coming down, wreathes and ornaments packed away. The busyness behind us now. Glittery moments come and gone. Welcome at first, the season has lost its shine.
Like a little angel, I wobble and wait, halo askew. I know I will be boxed up too, packed away, and left to hope on another year to shine again. The day may come you tire of me, my glory lost. I dread that day.
Each year I cringe a little more, lest you hesitate, your hand withdraw. Excitement comes, you reach for me. It brightens as I’m set in place. Again a crown upon your tree.