Some days I am reminded.
That I'm one day older.
I don't mind getting older.
It's the other reminders that I mind.
No husband to write love letters to.
No children to tuck in to bed at night.
To read fable stories to.
No garden patch.
Then I remember.
I am one day closer.
So I'll keep living for the moment.
And I'll keep on writing these love letters.
Keep imagining up these fables.
And as for the garden.
I'll just pick a dandelion on my way to work today.
And take delight in watching its seeds float away with my wishes.