Numbers tumble in my
Thoughts, the pen scratches
Another mark across the
Box before me, resigning
The passage of another day
To its burrow, never to be
Visited again. Yet, that
Singular metaphor captured
On the glossy page among
Thirty plus others, a photo
Of stunning natural wonder
Capping them all, pinned
Eye-level on the wall, keeps
For me another layer of
Life images spent in the
Security of life’s company.
Together we conquered the
Alien beast that beset us,
Finishing our fight that we
Had before left for another
Day, which in turn, became
Yesterday. And the peace
That now envelops the
Burning ache that has become,
Of late, too familiar, directs
My focus to another number
Nestled not far from that
Of today. The box for
Which all these others
Stand row upon row,
Leading up in an unbroken
Line to the driven destiny
Of a date long looked for,
Bringing together the sum
Of these past many days,
Making you, for tomorrow
And for all time to come,
My living Memory.
-Dakin 8/14/09
