Hours pass,
of course, and the minutes are but a blink.
What else could be expected
for life continues to flow
to have demands of its own.

The days are always spent
with all the to and fro of life
as we do the things we must
Things like work, like all the things
one must do to survive.
No, not just survive but also to thrive.

Then there is always the mundane.
We must clean, cook, prepare.
All those little things that become routine.

There is, too, time to laugh,
time for a bit of fun.

In our days, we have routines.
This we do on Mondays,
that on Friday afternoon.

Ah, but this was about days
not weeks, months and those years
that somehow slip away.

It is about those things that happen
every day without fail.
We bath, we eat, we dress ourselves.
Some follow the clock
and are done at the same times.
Others may not be attached
to a particular hour or minute
but rather just happen
when they happen.

I never know when it will happen.
Maybe I will hear a song.
That has always been a catalyst for me.
Or maybe it will be the sound
of a child’s laughter.
Perhaps there will be a scene on TV
with hugs, tears, and joy.
Or maybe just silence for too long
in the dark of night.

Any of those and dozens more
turn my thoughts to far away,
to then, to you.

Not some days.
Every day without fail.
And rarely is it just once,
one time in the day.

I am sure you don’t know
and probably don’t believe.
The day does not pass
without memory of those days,
of you, and a yearning for it all.

So, it has never come
and I doubt it ever will
for you are always in my days
in my nights.

No, there will never be
the day I didn’t think of you.

Michael Mathews
Christmas Day, 2017
In my RV by the lake