The Month of December

I don’t remember

The month of December

So sneakily showing its face.

The previous seasons

It must have its reasons

For choosing to somehow erase.

 

Since, like a magician,

What’s come to fruition

Is something we didn’t expect:

The year’s close to ending

And there’s no defending

To-do lists with boxes unchecked.

 

Yet we must keep hoping

That we’ll still be coping

With every curve life seems to throw,

For age has us finding,

As months keep unwinding,

We’ll never learn all we can know.