Tag Archives: 2012 – poem

Like a poet, whose eyes have long
stared at the blank page, those Christmas
lights blink tentatively. It is January
we throw ourselves at the feet of —
the hot water music of a late storm, a post-
party-noose, tightening its grip —
this cruel month of sales and returns and
promises to be kept. Pity those who die
by their lists. This year, aim to avoid
the target, admire the unresolved, attain
only time to dream. Let this year
happen, form its own beautiful shape.