It’s dark and cold and silent and darkest before the dawn.

The calendar is all empty except the numbers nothing’s on.

There’s no plans now in the planner. Nothing much to do.

Except holding it together and somehow muddle through.

Nothing is still something, nothing ventured nothing gained.

The wise stay at the here and now. Their quiet has explained.

There is no need to go there, the past is past not wrong.

You were so much younger then and now you don’t belong.

I saw a photo yesterday and for a second I felt old.

Not so much a bad thing just a story to be told.