For the days we don't remember

I think I’ll forget today. 


The day that began with promise.

Drinking a poignant morning coffee.

Feeling the unexpected hot heat of the sun against our cheeks on a late autumn day.

Singing and cooking in the kitchen.


Dreaming up stories.

Watching a pink super-moon lift above our heads 

as we take the slowest of meandering evening walks.

Drenching ourselves in pink, watching the colours touch the hilltops.

Not wanting the day to end. 


Shall today be memorable though? 

The accepting part of truth is suspecting it will blur into all of the other days.

One hundred lifetime's over, so many good days forgotten. 





 - Eimear McNelis

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