Sunday, April 22, 2012

To My Parents,

Born on this day, X years ago:
I know you've stopped counting,
But it's still another year's
Worth of T.V. and movies,

Hospital check-ups and hot meals,
Shopping and Skype conversations,
Dishes and laundry, and all other bits
And pieces that comprise your life.

Hair fades to gray, and skin folds
Into wrinkles. We will all grow old.
But to be happy sometimes, most days,
Is enough. (Sometimes. Most days.)

And if there remains something
That you need to do, you can do it
Together. There's time.
And time enough for us to spend

Beneath your wing. Here's to us
Shifting shapes to fit each other;
Here's to moving hand in hand
Towards the year to come.

Christine Fojas
Today X years ago, both my parents were born. I find Occasional poems a little tricky, and I'm aware it comes across a little trite, but I hope my parents feel my sincerity.

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