Another Day (The New 21)

Are birthdays incorrectly named?

Aren’t they anniversaries?

After all, we are only born once
Unless there is some kind of spiritual renewal
That is happening.

Those would be “reborn” days…

I think about birthdays as
Just another day.

No craziness…

No wildness…

Just another day…

I try to deny what birth
Must have been all about.

It’s all that pushing and squeezing,
Perhaps the greatest example
On the effect
Of cramped quarters and
The need for more personal space.

At birth, we are shown at our most impatient,
We are a force that will not be denied
And an ineffective helper
In the process to get
What we want.




Into the race.

Paying the bills.

Racking up the debt.

Stock piling the calories.

Getting a bigger belt.

Maybe we don’t want
All of that,
But living has consequences,
Some good, some bad,

And they all start
Once we are born,
The one and only birth day.

So on a day like today
When the Facebook well wishes are pouring in
I smile
Because the zodiac in me
Teeters between balance and imbalance,
My scales shift
Between thanks and the twisted way
I see this day
That without a doubt is improperly named.

I appreciate each “Happy Birthday”
Whether it comes from family,
Students, or equally old classmates
Who have spread all over the continent.

Hopefully, advancing age has not let them become incontinent
Because that would be an awful
Thing to deal with
On the anniversary of one’s birth.

Fortunately, that’s not a problem here,
Although a Fat Tire, or two, at dinner
Might loosen things up a bit.

(Take that how you want…)

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