Definitely don’t need reminding there’s about t’ be
another year dumped in the haversack; ’twas fairly
hefty already, even b’fore dawn spawned its damp
Spring compromise in wacky-grey, and yet there's
still one more day to go before we write 73 after th’
tone - yeah, September 6’s the day I was born - at
best Virgo’s grandiose idea of a harvest in nascent
virginity, sent to test the tide of things yet to come
And to think I blamed my Mum for such naivety as
expressed in that imagery, but she’d taught me th’
magnanimous art o’ reading long before attending
School; sure, they put it to the test, but I’d already
decided who, & what, I’d countenance as veracity,
& that’s the affray which has kept me entertained
We’ll awaken tomorrow, another year racked in th’
pot & few delusions about what futures hold; I am
already keen f’ going bold where I’d’ve never had
temerity t’ dream possibilities but that’s a bygone
clause exclusive t’ being naive, thus clandestinely
surviving it, has succumbed to what it means
© 5 September 2018, I. D. Carswell
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