A television program foretold
the day that he would die.
He no longer celebrates getting old;
He drinks to death the first of each July.
If death is as significant as birth,
why shouldn’t he enjoy the years
until he leaves his body on the earth?
His happiness is somehow more sincere
than those who fret and moan,
“Maybe today is the day.”
His body holds no fearful bones,
has no more hurtful words to say.
March 16
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