Sixty One
That’s what my driver’s license says,
another trip around the sun.
Now older than my dad would ever be,
Him in the morning mirror, can that be me?

I stop and look around, this last corner of winter,
and spring already coming around,
always, for me, a time of possibilities, expectations,
the new year ready to be explored,
the last, questioned.

End of winter, end of another year,
the door opening just a crack, letting in fresh air,
to whatever I can make of it.

Take a breath, pause and smell the air,
be the cat that explores new found sun,
all the day’s gift, imagining that experience
just for itself, all its wonderment.

Candles to light, and make a wish,
laughter and smiles
for coming this far, and
moving around the next corner,
being the cat in the garden,
after yesterday’s winter.

Sixty one, another number
not really the measure
of where I’ve been, and where I will go,
or all that I will come to be.

Neal Lemery 2/2014