Dearest C, Twenty Twenty Three

Dearest C, Twenty Twenty-Three, a year spinning with a rainbow of pastel colors— Not in the singular excitement hung on each hour past. And watched with bated breath, heavily awaiting surprises, Like youth’s impatient sleepless sleeping beauty. The breezing winds would make their nightly songs, Of pure devotion around earth’s elderly shores. Nightly melody played from years past can be heard, Or gazing at the bright delicate, budded destiny. Those who bloomed on the sidewalks and street corners— No—yet still fast-paced, still impatient daily. Pillowed upon my youthful arms when its vital strength, Where strength would never fade in the coming winters, But would rise forever, full of vigor and energy. Awaken in youthful restless, ever edgily twitching. Still, still, to hear the bells toll the hours o’clock. And so would live forever—or despair on the crosswalk. Sincerely, AG