like sugar plums (without the nutcracker)
dance in her head tonight
letting us know in her many ways
that the countdown is almost over
and she'll soon be 22
I'll soon be 27
but the excitement of birthdays is gone
oh, to be young again and dream of cake
and ice cream instead of:
stubborn eye-wrinkled nightmares
that come out when I smile,
that one persistant grey hair
I've plucked about a hundred times
to no avail and
a soon-to-be husband
who barely knows the purpose
of wrapping paper!
Happy Birthday Christina!
Enjoy it while you can!
may you come back at the end of the 7th day of the 8th month
and write us your birthday frolic memoirs before forgetfulness
lumps it in with all the others and leaves your sugar-plummed ivories
mimicking the colour of black piano keys in mozart's moonlight
Honorable mention
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