Of course it started long before
There wasn't a first day.
And even then day one
Was chosen long after,
When the dust settled,
A pin stuck in the calendar.
So we lived unknowing
Through many day ones,
Wishing we could see the shape
Of what is to come.
Can we believe the prophets
Of the first days?
Anymore than the predictors
Of the last?
So we will treat today
As though it were any other
Not as a hopeful or resigned
As on the first
Or relieved or desperate
As on the final day.
Trying to live in a way
That history will approve.