Celebratory poem
Seventy-one is a strange gay in a morning
Awaiting a sunrise, and an Indian treat for dinner
Last night has coagulated my heart, atop in
My park I see the others, this project is mind
To celebrate, in a hospital ward, enclosed and
With the joy of others. Ouch this fractured afternoon,
Gone, and tomorrow has come. Here age-ing is
A great concern and a myriad of others, a strange
Curvature of mind. Some are silent and I have
Words. We begin to speak, together in a party
The cakes are gifts, and the wine is mine
And non-alcoholic and stable is my heart again
With a new parade
© Noel Jeffs SSF