Dates which go astray, or appear wrong, or are given mistakenly: so that we never quite know where we are or are meant to be...Missing dates...
The death of a friend which is reported unbidden: a date unnoticed, we were doing other things, never thought of it at all, but is today's news. Then is yesterday's: food for thought, contemplation, a sense of the mystery of life and time...
Deadlines which, misreported, loom like ghosts, phantoms which never were: no need to be kept, urgency postponed, put on hold, put back a week, or a month, or forever. Until a new date takes its place: shining, pristine, with that challenging smile.
Not the dates we eat, although some are swallowed whole, but the dates we recognise and note, perhaps in a diary, a letter or a sudden email. Plump with promise, then withered with time and disappearing from consciousness like a new tune.
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