not the ides of march, but you're not exactly julius caesar...

It is not the Ides of March

And it is not Friday the thirteenth either.

It is not the full moon

Or the years lived in the shadow of broken mirrors.

But beware.

It is the ordinary days you need to be wary of,

To take care of.

Oh no, it's not the Ides of March

And there is no indication

That to life you must cling.

It is just an ordinary day.

But it will matter in the end.

We do not each get warnings

Nor do we all cross a prophet's path before our time.

It may not be the Ides of March--

No, to you they will be kind.

It will be another day

One to which you yourself are blind.

Be ready.

And do not give away your time

Unaware.

No, not the Ides of March

But the ordinary days.

See, they are restless and tired

And probably a bit bored.

Do not forget what the ordinary can become.

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These words are so anxious to be out on the page. I do not know if they are ready yet, but here we are.