Years of days

Years of days

Years of days and days
and days too many to count,
too few to fill a heart so full

I could say, enough,
too few in the balance
to make a life’s full weight.

Before are days and days
and years perhaps of life without
your soft shadow-tread.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

27 thoughts on “Years of days”

      1. It’s not easy though is it. Thoughts are with you Jane. Losing a much loved pet is a different kind of pain and for me it went deeper than I ever imagined. It’s over a year but still so raw some days.

      2. I knew it would be hard, but a dog is always there, always next to you, following you around, there to cheer you up or distract your attention. Always giving. So much I hadn’t fully appreciated.

    1. When you step back from the—am I getting anything out of this, fulfillment of some kind—question, I find it’s easy to wonder what on earth it’s all for. What am I really doing?

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