one

one
more day
until I change
miraculously
emerge from the chrysalis
of my thirties
and bloom with butterfly wings
with maturity and wisdom
as my watchwords
flapping my wings
flying into that new life
as life begins

or
is it the other way

one
more day
until I change
miraculously
crawl wearily out of bed
all bent and creaking
a white-haired crone
wrinkled and old
dried up and dusty
who nobody sees anymore
over the hill, past it
just freewheeling to the end

or maybe
just maybe
it will be a day
like any other
except it’ll be
a day to feel special
a day to celebrate being alive
a day to be thankful
for all that I have

and maybe
just maybe
I’ll enjoy it

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6 Replies to “one”

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