One Hundred Twenty

In those years
when we are lulled
by the hint
of what will be

     no longer of
     what can be

we must be reminded
to be those things
of everyday life

tamping the queasiness

no longer to ferment
those whispers 
farming them into
something where

anger is unavoidable

Remove the mask
allow the god-seed
to take root

requited

in your 120th year

.

.

.

Author’s Note:

Today is Day Four of Na/GloPoWriMo. I missed writing my poem yesterday, but I did do my cards. So today I combined my writing with Day Three.

My words: queasy, lull, ferment, requited

Today’s prompt: I used a photo of mine instead of the suggested  @SpaceLiminalBot.

These are my cards being held in a sweet little origami box my hubby made for me.

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