I do not wish to know
tomorrow’s faint and slow
ascent, nor do I care to see
if yesterday was lithe with glee –
Wasn’t last year so obsessed
We can attest.
And back ten years, if sighted, could
we not have worried where we stood?
To keeping in the ‘now on scene’,
I hope that all my words are keen
and opening new each day
-as morning glories say –
that past affronts have gone to sour
and I embrace a blooming flower
that opens with the sun.
And here I have begun.