Another year to mend those fences if you can
those tattered hearts, to water grass on this side
till it’s as green as the other.
Let us have champagne and pickled herring,
a chunk of rye bread and poems for breakfast.
Let that pale sun rise far to the south
and ice creep up north windows.
My African friend says
I wish u best of d best…
Funny how beliefs fall away as we age–
dreams, ideas, salvations,
all dropped along the way
till there’s just this–
cold ash in the fireplace
an empty wine bottle,
still there are rainbows
scattered on the ceiling
from a crystal someone gave me
long ago, and hope–
always there is hope–
that this year will bring us peace
and that thing we most desire
and may they be the same,
forever may they be the same.