“Write about the future when the past was bad, but today was good.”

Yesterday was the oldest day I ever had.
it swam and buried the sky in a wet year
the moments were patches of passing
unlifted was the day so burned,
it shriveled with no passion in the oven,
tasteless and runny, chalky and crude.

Today sits up and breathes away the holes
it moves infinite and speedy like love,
packing neatly into minutes so fresh.
Controlled and clear, today bundles my mind.
Today, the harvest is freckled with red kisses.

So, I raise a glass to the tomorrow,
It preps the table
holding all strings
all presents wrapped frozen
for sweet and shy it may melt,
sizzling and drumming it may fold
and we may only trickle through,
casting the black aside and white in,
all for the undone days.