I am getting older by the minute.
At midnight, the clock resets,
and I have become a child again.

All that evolution in 24 hours
wears a body and a soul out
of energy, but not fear.

Sometimes tears are all I have
for people I don’t even know,
never met, may never meet.

I grieve their absences
and the absences felt
by those who miss them.

I miss strangers and grieve
for those who knew them.
I grieve for the the losses of others.

I cry.
I now understand


Janet Cormier is a painter, writes prose and poetry, and performs comedy. JC prefers different and original over pretty. She loves collecting stuff, but cleaning not so much. Janet also talks to strangers. A lot. Her column appears weekly on Oddball Magazine.