Days Poem by Mary Champion

I rarely witness their arrival
for they sneak in under cover of darkness
while I dream in another dimension -
oblivious.

By the time I am conscious of their presence
they are well established -
in obstinate occupation,
serenaded by the dawn chorus
as they sweep inexorably across the Earth.

Of uniform size, give or take a smidgen,
each is otherwise unique.
bringing its own moods
and its own surprises.
Some of us will greet it with a smile,
some with a sigh.
Some will curse its very presence.

Uneven and unpredictable -
each will leave a legacy of pain here,
a precious memory there,
devastation somewhere.

Then they depart - also in darkness,
when my eyes have barely closed -
swallowed by the insatiable maw of time.
But, so far,
there has always been another in pursuit -
a relentless procession of days.