Day 562 Wednesday, September 29, 2021

Happy Birthday

Just past dawn, the sun stands

with its heavy red head

in a black stanchion of trees,

waiting for someone to come

with his bucket

for the foamy white light,

and then a long day in the pasture.

I too spend my days grazing,

feasting on every green moment

till darkness calls,

and with the others

I walk away into the night,

swinging the little tin bell

of my name.

A Birthday Poem

By Ted Kooser

Sometimes only a poem will do.

Each of us has a birthday. Happy Birthday!

- David