So, from the poem and title you might have guessed that it is my birthday.

I’m 59 today, a magic age if only because it is a prime number and I love prime numbers.

Also, Siri says it symbolizes adventure, compassion, curiosity and wit. I’ll take that, though I have no idea what Siri is talking about.

And because I have been experimenting with poems read out loud, I’ve recorded this video version of the poem:

I think the poem works well read out loud. I like the rhyme–sometimes end rhyme, sometimes internal, but never expected rhyme, I don’t think, except maybe the last line with the long “o” sounds in “too”.

I’ve always liked repeating words at the start of lines which I do several times here, but most effectively, I think, with the lines that start with “regardless”.

There I have a very well used allusion to the poem “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night” by Dylan Thomas. I’ve alluded to that poem in a poem here.

This poem formed last night around three am when I lightly woke and thought, “I’m 59 now. I should write a poem.”

And then I started to hear my voice reading a poem. And then I fell asleep.

And so, this poem.

The text version:

when they might

Well, I’m fifty-nine today,
and happy, of course,
it being a birthday,
though there’s little recourse

if instead I want to complain
about 
the pains of growing old,
physical pain, the meta and the normal kind,
emotional pain, for people lost,
weight gained,
frustration all but maintained,
but again for loss,
my dad, my sister, my aunt,
and animals too,
and friendships unmaintained,
those friends I’ll see perhaps
once or twice more before 
that abacus of age adds up
and all the beads fall down,

but the privilege of life is choice
and I choose the happiness 
you sing to me,
accept it willingly, 
free to let hope not go,
but grow,
regardless of my pain and loss,
regardless of my age,
regardless of my rage
against the nights that come too soon,
but I can breath,
and see,
and hear 
and will remember 
those I’ve lost
and those still here
those I still call dear 
those who are loving, hoping, living life 
imperfectly
as I will, too,
with hopes that your days
are many more
and when they might,
are happy too.