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Calendars

Looking back, we remark upon another year

crammed with readings,

poetry festivals, am dram rehearsals.

The illustrations? Jaunty railway

posters, preferably from the 1930s,

views of promenade and coast for you,

moors and uplands for me,

awash with confident colours.

Life begins at 60? Too true!

 

Looking forward, an older woman,

us before too long,  

checks her calendar of garden scenes,

watercolours in pale shades,

regularly, on the hour, to remind

her what is happening,

what she should be doing,

and what the date might be,

as days, weeks, years flash by. 

Calendars

◄ To My Unknown Soldier

The Oldies ►

Comments

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 15th Dec 2014 21:04

A really good poem, Greg. It has a targetted audience, yes, but a highly appreciative one. It reads so accurately, and effortlessly, and reeks relate-ability. The last line is super. I had a moment deciphering 'am dram' and then I got it (feeling really stupid!)

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Graham Sherwood

Wed 10th Dec 2014 11:40

Makes you think this one. I only said to my wife an hour ago "what are we going to do in 2015" as if it was another era, not just a new year.

We had a premature granddaughter in February and a bouncing baby grandson in September and 2014 has just disappeared.

We both sit and compare ipad calendars regularly now too.

Bloody hell!

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