A year in the swirl of the twirl of a life
A blink and a tear from the center of her eye
It came, and it passed, unpaused by the strife
Ignoring the very question, an existential “Why?”
It spun, and it sputtered, finally rushing ahead
A child, somewhat wild, quietly perplexed
Dreams in rough shape yet decidedly undead
Broken, not battered, mildly vexed
Swiftly absorbing the ending of reality’s play
She’s a year, a lifetime, a decade of plenty
Living a lifetime in moments today
Flashing forward, to tomorrow, twenty-twenty