No Special Day

It has asked to be treated like all the other days.
Not to be beamed at in assembly,
winked at, singled out for praise,
parted for or crowded round, not to be
starred or handed a badge or in obvious ways
made something of. In no uncertain terms
did it say no gifts, no cake, no fuss,
no speeches, hugs, and christ no poems.
Look how I’ve answered what it asked of us.
Touched, it gently frees itself from my arms.

from Pluto (Picador, 2013), © Glyn Maxwell 2013, used by permission of the author and the publisher.

Glyn Maxwell in the Poetry Store

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