I wrote this poem in 2009 and wanted to share it.
Every year I feel the same.
New Year’s Day
The snow on the ground,
a light dusting which will turn to ice,
is a canvas of hope.
Blankness, emptiness and a promise
of bright and cheerful tomorrows
to rescue the sorrows of yesterday.
Last year we buried our dead,
we buried some dreams,
perhaps even some ancient fears.
We toast to the what-ifs and to each other
as well; survival was laughter and
often shared tears.
The New Year is meticulously clean so far.
But know change will come
and dancing, maybe.
Smile now, close then open our eyes and go outside
and begin again.