Doubleday

Two days are always
Becoming themselves,
Accumulating

Fresh daytime stories
On separate tracks
That run parallel—

There’s the world at large,
Events of the day,
What you may call news,

And there’s your own world,
Events in your day,
That also arise.

All this is one day,
Or one date, at least,
Raising the question

About which events
Will matter the most
In the longest view,

As well as whether
Anything belongs
To a single tale

Uniting them all.
The days grow. They bloom
The way flowers do,

Petals off a stem,
Each day’s paired blossoms,
Toxic or helpful.

Time just keeps adding.
You exist as part
Of a universe

Bigger by the day,
Those miraculous,
In their way, twinned days.