days are as perishable as lives
expiring whether we use them or not
some you don’t want to let go of
the heart-skipping or great news ones
the life-couldn’t-get-any-better ones
those with flowers pressed between pages
others you can’t wait to get rid of
cactus thorns in the grass clippings
bloody ones to flush down the toilet
or push to the curb of history
so while birds find their nests
and branches as dusk approaches
use the light of a dying sun
to find what you want to save
before you’re left
rummaging through the darkness
annoyed by the lack of light
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