It's July 7th, seeming as
a day completely meaningless.
It's Monday, could be Wednesday, since
it wouldn't make a difference.
And I am sure that I can say
that I will not recall today
in one or two or three years time
as one who stuck inside my mind.
There is not thought, no love, no hate
when I am writing down the date.
But this day could grow on me
when it's an anniversary
of a first kiss I haven't had
with someone I have not yet met.
July 7th even might
become the birthday of my child.
Today was just like every day:
I walked to work, I know the way,
came home, ate pizza, studied late,
paid no attention to the date.
But July 7th could become
a day I wait for all year long.
So while today was meaningless
it's then a date I'd never miss.
(2020)
YOU ARE READING
Thimble Poetry
Puisibecause sometimes when you've said all you have to say you can fold it up and it fits into a thimble A collection of love poetry, amazed poetry, sad poetry, angry poetry and all the rest. No depressing poetry. Mostly rhymed. This is the English par...
