August

 Black marker. 
          One swipe.
Another day gone. 
Black marker. 
          One swipe.
Another day gone. 
Black marker. 
          One swipe.
Tear off the sheet. 
I stare at the paper, 
          Covered in one black swipe at a time
Before crumbling it and throwing it away. 
I stare at the new sheet. 
         No swipes, no black, 
But full of darkness in its own right. 
A new sheet for a new month
          Last month trashed...underutilized...
Joy, fun, memories,
         Intended,  postponed, dreamt of...
Swiped away with each day...
This new sheet...
         Fresh...pure...promising...
Marks the new year for me...
         Marks another year gone
Lost to complacency and distraction....
         But...perhaps...as I notice: another chance?