A mistake of one place, in the month;
Part of the year zips by, like the breeze.
While an error of one, in the year
Takes us back twelve months; or ahead.
And an error, in the decades place,
Leaves me buried, or else you dead:
Twist the dials, of our chance laden fates;
It's too early; or else way too late.
Oh! I love the last line - as you know, I'm a fan of a strong conclusion and this one leanes the reader with something to ponder.