The Birthday Party Poem by Iohannes Silvaticus

Now, late into the years
Of my youth, I have
Given up the celebration
Of my birthdays. Sometimes,
Even the birthdays of
Others.

It doesn't matter anymore.
There are no more
Countdown to maturities,
And every party is merely
A trite reason to drink
Whiskey and champagne
To forget, 'today, I am
Older.' And that I should be
Wiser for it. Quite a laugh.

I don't even mark my calendars.
Lately, I find myself forgetting
Seasonal holidays as well.
But she is a gem,
So I still mark our anniversaries.
Aside of which, there is
Nothing else to mark
In the monotony of life.

Counting the years go by
In hours with her,
And hours without