Ten Days
Each day that passes by, I know
I can't have back again.
So I must comfort myself it seems
as if each day were ten.
I'd repeat the ones that meant so much
over and over and then
discard the ones that brought me tears,
scratch them out with my pen.
Now which are the days that I'd have become ten?
The one where I first met you.
The ones when I held my brand new sons,
The ones when the sun shined through,
The ones when I felt God's presence
in all that I would do.
And the one that will come someday for me,
the one where I'll say adieu.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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