We are Only Given Today

As I am walking in the park,
I hear just above the roar of the cicadas
the sound of a scream
and I cannot tell if it is a real scream,
a siren
or a memory.

I am walking into my forty-second year of life
with the knowledge
that this was the age
my brother was when he died.
That was only last year,
I think with every step,
that was only last year.

I am still counting the years until I pass
and lead a longer life than my mother did-
six more years,
I think with every step,
six more years.

And then there is the sound of the scream again
and I still cannot determine its origin-
just like the weight of my grief.
So I take another step
and breathe another breath
and continue walking.

We are only given today,
I think as the cicadas sing,
we are only given today.