Arlene Corwin Poetry

Re-inspired

A stagnant pen,

Vacant paper.

Quiet hand, then

I remember:

Ha! Your birthday;

Ah, your birthday!

One plus seventy!

Lunch,

Then town,

A walk around.

Not much change,

But new each morning,

As it should be.

We’ll eat lunch

With more discrimination.

Munch by munch,

Crunch by crunch

A cool familiarity.

We’ll celebrate.

One and seventy:

A number only.

© Re-inspired 2.6.2009

Birthday Book; Love Relationships; Birth, Death & In Between; Numbers;

Arlene Corwin