Living it!

It’s a famous day, this one
Beloved of pop song writers and occasional maudlin poets
It dawns like any other, but then again
And I suppose will only have one closing

Stillbirth (how incongruous- if ever a moment lurched violently across the times, from past bliss and hope to futures blown to another dimension- this birth was never still)
Or more correctly termination, abortion at its most awful
two paths diverging not by accident or in the grasp of Fate
but by my choice
on balance of weights and common sense and other cruelties

I wonder if my paw paw tree would choose to stand alone as she does
and flower proudly, without doubt the lushest leafiest tree in this garden
quite the talking point
but always without the burden of fruit