The last day of something leads to
The first day of something else.
We’re stuck here in the sequence
Somewhere between last and first.
Our lives unwind like this – endless
Beginnings and endings to deal with.
We’re at this intersection, waiting for
The light to change, red to green, then
Dawn to dusk, spotlight to nightlight.
Nothing remains, stays as we like it.
It begins, it ends, and we ride along
In the midst of it, heading into the next.
This constant end and beginning, always
Flowing on, floating along, flushing us
Away into the plumbing of our lives
Without an on/off switch to save us from
It. Today I’m ending and beginning, looking
Both ways, like Janus, so much behind me
And a lot less in front of me. It works like
This until the last day is my last day and
There’s nothing just beginning.