Today is Six Days Till Vin's Birthday.

Nearly every year in the now-15 years Vin and I have known each other, I've written him a birthday poem. Usually it's about time (his favorite topic), or love (everyone's favorite topic), or something suitably birthday-ish, like age or wisdom.

I used to have to write it out longhand, write it for myself in decent penmanship in my poetry notebook, then write it again to present to him on a sheet of nice paper, then write it once more in his birthday notebook. This time I can post it on my blog, and only have to write it out once in Vin's notebook. Thank God for technology!

sensate

what you’re asking, of course, is whether
what we have now is forever
and I never have quite the answer
you’re really hoping to hear:

Which is,

I suppose, the swift reply;
the sugar-candied, poison lie
that yes, of course, ‘you and I’
means the same thing as ‘always’.

Listen:

I have trouble with things I cannot touch;
with placing faith over-much
in fervent promises and such
I cannot be certain to keep.

Instead,

the only offer I have to stand
is tomorrow, and the day after, and
the tangible future I can fit in my hand
to give, whole and unsweetened.

When you
long to taste forever, and I
would rather touch tomorrow, can we
possibly make sense of our senses?

Happy Birthday in advance, Vinnie-Boy!