The Month of December

I don’t remember The month of December So sneakily showing its face. The previous seasons It must have its reasons For choosing to somehow erase. Since, like a magician, What’s come to fruition Is something we didn’t expect: The year’s close to ending And there’s no defending To-do lists with boxes unchecked. Yet we must keep hoping That we’ll still be coping With every curve life seems to throw, For age has us finding, As months keep unwinding, We’ll never learn all we can know.