by Debi Swim
I rub the remnants of dreams
from gritty eyes, yawn, stretch
and face the dawning day
Discerning there are just so many and no more.
A measured number known to God, meted one by one.
I’ve spent my life like a man with pockets full
of gold and no fear or thought of running out.
The days ahead stretched long and smooth,
so I thought, in foolish youth.
Time laughed at my poor innocence.
Debi Swim writes primarily to prompts. She is a wife, mother, grandmother and persistent WV poet. Blog: https://georgeplaceblog.wordpress.com/