Holding My Hat

It’s sunny and breezy and lovely, but cold

And I’m days away from another year old.

I’m holding my hat so the wind doesn’t steal it,

Pretending the sun’s warmth means that I don’t feel it.

 

The seagulls are swooping, the branches are blowing;

I sit by the river with no way of knowing

How many more birthdays will grant me a candle

And whether what waits I’ll be able to handle.

 

Perhaps if I focus on merely today

And forget about what may be coming my way,

I’ll be able to soak up the sunshine instead

Of more worries than simply the hat on my head.