| CALLY CONAN-DAVIES
All Our Birthdays
hey come to take away another year,
but we will not be held to any date.
We roll sideways while the old soft song
begins again. We belong to every day.
Remember how we gave up counting time?
We always got it wrong, couldn't make it add
to any sum. All numbers zero on the instant.
We moved from there to here on a see-through prayer.
Now we hip hooray each day, caught loosely on the logic
of the leafless tree, the shifting dune, the corroded eaves,
each dropped tear . . .
so that somewhere between the common and the lost,
close to the sea star and the green wave,
I can write your name in the sand and wish
you many glad returns, even as you vanish.