I am nearly twenty-nine;

you understand,

I want wine.

Overall yes

I admit it's fine

to gain a year.

I do not mind.

Only death

keeps one behind on time.

I am prompt,

I am punctual.

I do not pine

over decades.

To mourn the past

is most unkind;

we are not VHS cassettes,

do not rewind,

cannot unbind our past

from our present like

a river, or a child.

I am almost over.

I cannot divine

the future, but for all

my mortal whining we both know

that time continues,

as will I.

A few more hours;


I hope my thirties

do not lie.


posted by _refugee_: 296 days ago