Mary Ahearn

A Day Unknown

A few will hear it, many won't, the song of a bird, unseen. It will call out a name, clearly, no ambiguity, and a date. Any date, just a blank on the calendar, but an end date, perhaps your own.

dark lyrics
in a light melody...
all the time in the world

Calendars, lunar, solar, liturgical, digital, all chart our days. They keep secrets too, in their unmarked, neat blocks of time. Weddings, birthdays, christenings, anniversaries, and dental appointments are written in those spaces, but there are still so many blanks. No clue is given to those dates later to be carved on stone, all angels and lilies and loss.

moon rise
somewhere between
the tallest tree and lowest star