Arlene Corwin writes

Days After: Post Birthday

Twenty-five past midnight,

Lights are down and so am I, 

Cat on bed

And Arlene headed

For a future not yet formed -

If formed not known. 

Have you taken note or, paid attention, 

That with birthday done,

The formal back to normal,

And you’re on your way

To twelve months later,

There is an ambience, 

A new and hopeful dance begun?

AND YET,

Life is the strangest:

After being wined and dined,

Celebrated, loved and praised,

I see, on TV news released

The little California town 

Where daughter Jennifer was born,

Burnt down! 

Paradise - its name now wrong,

Evacuated and destroyed,

Heaven turned to fiery hell.

Good, good Lord, I’m tearful-filled

With sadness;  

The madness

                     of cruel fate,

The date that I make eighty-four

Daughter’s birthplace is no more!

And other daughters, sons and pets:

As diabolical as life gets!

Dumbfounding, staggering, injurious to matter

With no soul-ution cearly chartered.

SOME TIPS:

Days of celebrating

Must be taken

Airily,

For though behaving cheerily and merrily,

One knows that lifestyles change within a minute:

Minuet to ricochet, 

Swimsuit to a lawsuit -

Nature’s calm to warfare’s harm.

Friends, be serious, be kind,

Avoid illusions that seem lasting.

Is that asking

                      just too much?

Is the asking just unjust?

Friends, become unblind.

It’s all about two opened eyes,

Becoming wise by sizing up reality -

In all its lies.


 -- Scott Strazzante