Already, two months early, I ponder...

I write Bern a poem for each of our anniversaries. I don't know when it started--a decade or more ago, I'm sure. Our anniversary--#47 this September 5--will cause me to ponder a great deal. I sometimes do stuff like have each line begin with the letters of the alphabet that spell out the number. This year would be F-O-R-T-Y-S-E-V-E-N--like that.

I have time to ponder and write.

Here's last's years 'almost' poem.

The Poem I Can’t Write

For days now I’ve been trying

to write a poem that just won’t come.

It’s for our anniversary and about my love,

so it should flow out without any effort,

since I love you so very much.

But the poem is hiding from me,

peeking at me from around the corner,

avoiding me at all cost, it seems.

Page after page I throw away

(or, more accurately, erase from my computer).

Forty-six years of marriage (and years before that)

of loving you—the words should pour out,

full of passion and wonder and amazement.

This time I realized something,

my love for you isn’t something ‘out there’,

that I can examine, reflect on, put into words.

That love is in those letters in the attic.

That love has altered, changed, become incarnate.

The love I feel for you is, quite simply, me.

I am my love for you. It is my very ‘being’

That cannot be captured and enclosed in words.

That is ‘who I am’. So, I am your poem.

This poem is ‘me’, my very being, the “I” I call myself.

I am yours. Your anniversary poem….

September 5, 2016