Bob McPhail 4:30 p.m., Aug. 29
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- Who in the World is Anthony Conwright
Ode to Today
Dear Today, It is a delight to walk under your beauty And open my eyes to your youthful breath, Illuminating my windowpane.
Today, If I expect you to make amends for yesterday, then, Call me a fool. Here you are: Divorced from yesterday’s misfortunes and self-doubt, Divided by a river of stars.
Today, My life is tucked and clasped in your palms, Buried in the soil of yesterday, Watered with dreams of you, Hoping to sprout between your sheen.
Today, If the sun could speak to you of yesterday, It wouldn’t say anything new. I confess to be a prisoner of its knowledge, But I am freed from its chains and Cured of the infectious disease of yesterday’s infidelities to my good fortune.
Today, If my eyes cling to the darkness of yesterday, At first glimpse of your radiance, I will end the affair. Despite, the similarities you share with your elder, I will not profess the two of you to be in cahoots. Today, you stand on the grandeur of your uniqueness.
Today, Unaware of the revelation you will present to me, I will explore your flare without shade. Although, I am blind to what you will bring, I smile for the gift of life you have given me
Today, As you change into your evening dress, Wrapping my reflections about you in a cocoon of hindsight, Drifting into night, Revealing stars lolling about your shadow, Like frozen celestial raindrops that have not fallen into existence. I give myself to you, The Martyr for my growth.
Dear Today, You will die, But, even in death and darkness, dressed in black, The day still belongs to you. And if you so choose to take me with you, There is no other day I’d rather fall asleep with.