Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.
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We gathered at quarter past ten, then checked all our calendars again; with coffee and cake,
Today you are one year closer to something—not death, not wisdom, not the person you planned to be by now, but something.
You light your own candles now, choose the restaurant, bring wine to our table.
Today my mind predicts one hundred percent disaster with scattered embarrassment
My daughter brings light to the day, then moves all the candles away; she says, “Keep the cake,
My daughter said cake was too plain, so ordered both tart and champagne; when asked which to share,
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