#8. The Almanac

Paging through her yearbook of days,

she comes across the first purple violets of spring,

catches sight of the gaudy lilies of summer,

and there are fall's flaming sugar maples,

finally spies the long-needled pines of winter.

Constellations, sunrises and sunsets, a profusion

of celestial events, intricately tangled in time,

day after day. Past. Present. Future. 
Time is the nebulous dimension 
through which everything passes.

It is her intention to find more time, time for them,

the hopelessly ordinary, unremarkable them, 

in this last season of their life together, while the moon 

spins around corners in the starry night sky,

the sun sends golden shafts of light; and the wind,

that wild, unpredictable wind, sets it all free.