The third of the second month
one to remember
at least for me
the day when I shared
the yoke of marriage.
Been doing so
for not one year
but for forty seven years
tirelessly but with a diligence,
going forth and back steadily
with and without complaints.
Major part of my years
toil and foil, expected
almost every time.
escaping, caught in between
all happen with a striking force
I look back, while my lips quiver
eyes turn moist, heart feels heavy.
as the forty seventh year dawns.
One reply on “Three Years Short Of Fifty”
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