Like All Days Do (written for Christmas Day and every day between)

 That's the way life is...

heaped platters stripped beneath ever-eager hunger!

Today has slipped like all days do

Into that crypt of sparkles spent

The pictures it has brushed from view

Still waft in poetry unkempt

Where hug turns into tug-of-heart

Twixt Here and where What Was resides

As we become wise to the art

Of hello, (but farewell disguised)

...so then we do not pine so much

Keened to the Reaper’s quickened blade

We learn to linger ‘neath the touch

Of memories still being made

And do not ask for more or less

Than what we have right here, right now

Lest present would-be happiness

Is lost or overlooked somehow

As time in its imperfect charge

Stuns as with its persistent claim

While teaching us to live love large

Before we go from whence we came

 After the heaped platter succumbs

To Hunger's ever-eager haste

As echoes strew like starry crumbs

While we are intent on the taste

© Janet Martin