Another image every month
depending on the kind you find:

cars or gardens
castles, trains
paintings, planets
parks or planes.

Mountains hang inside my den
- a calendar from way back when
I kept because I liked the scenes

the snowy peaks
the evergreens.

Reminds me why I traveled so
when I was young, so long ago.

This year I got the lighthouse one,
although it now occurs to me
no house is lit and shown at night.
I've yet to spot a ship at sea.

Last year, shells filled up this wall.
The year before? I can't recall.

Next year, I'm thinking butterflies.
Such countless things to realize
as more months quickly disappear

the days and numbers
not so clear.

Some clarity, at times, prevails.

There's always hope a new boat sails
before I reach December's end.

The hours sharpen, blur, or blend.

Each year I'm here
awaiting change
am readier to rearrange

regain my strength
reclaiming prime

forgetting futures
losing time

come January
spreading wings
with jazzed up hues
in ageless springs.