Twenty-Twenty

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