Some Days Are Best Forgotten |
Much like every day; At dawn, his morning walk, lucky tap on old gatepost. Much like every day; A Fall morning, calm and clear, the days she loved the most. Much like every day; Back inside their empty house, he made his eggs and toast. Much like every day; With little planned or plotted, he defrosts this evening's roast. Much like every day; Days spent at the keyboard; with that, he stayed engrossed. Much like every day; Siblings, parents, and love all had gone, no visits, save her ghost. Much like every day; No phone calls interrupted; a package parcel post. Much like every day; Day gave way to evening; light glowed from the lamppost. Much like every day; Ready for bed, he kissed her Cross, left hanging on their bedpost. Much like every day; Little remembering, nor caring for today's passed milepost. Much like every day; Some days are best forgotten, their meaning all but lost, Much like every day; With no one left to celebrate, what sense a party to play host? Much like every day; |