Calendar

In April
an unspoken rule
says you must show
semblence at least
of eagerness for life

In June
the days sprawl out
great sheets of paper
waiting for words to fill.

Better October
when the hours' recitatives
focus towards
a closing chord.

Better still, November:
leave to draw curtains
on the dwindling day,
fold hands and be
as peevish as you please.


© The Estate of Dorothy Cowlin 1998–2021. All rights reserved.

This poem is known to have appeared in the following publication:

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