Nothing Pencilled In (Poetry)

The days drift on by —
when did they start to
disappear like this —
not even leaving
an ink-mark behind

to make them stand out
from the steady count
of vacant squares on
a calendar once
starred bright with events?

Little happens now
that needs reminders
booked-in and looking
forward to — planning
maybe weeks ahead

Highlights of the year
in Day-Glo colours
underlined twice or
more for emphasis
excitement pending

Life’s frantic pace slowed
to aimless dawdle
age kills momentum
dates hardly matter
whole weeks — months — all blur