Seize the day. Squeeze this moment tight.
Nothing before means anything. Everything
afterwards is merely hope and dream.
Remember how, when you were a tiny child,
you chased wind-blown autumn leaves
trying to catch them before they landed?
Elf parachutes you called them, treading with care
so as not to crush the fallen elves as they lay
leaf-bound upon the ground. I stand here now,
a scarecrow scarred with age, arms held out,
palms up, in the hope that a descending leaf
will perch like a sparrow on my shoulder.
When one condescends to visit me and another
graces my gray hair, my old heart pumps with joy.
I stand up straight, knowing I have seized this day.