Anniversaire

I once had better nights than days

My nights were put to songs.

The album tracks of nightingales who'd found a moment's grace

Amidst the decades of unhappiness and mediocrity.

But now I wake to her

And with the sun the gentle breezes of our love pick up and fall.

No more for me the darkening path of finely polished stones of misery

I wake to her and shall again tomorrow.