December 31, 2018 10:44 pm
The days fall off the wall calendar
Like ice cubes from a tray.
Time applies the slightest pressure
And we’ll never know if it had more
Strength than that because it’s never
Necessary, the liquid days slow and
churn opaque and then click away.
When I was alone I used to spend the year’s
Last minutes on the roof, by the basketball
Pole in the driveway I’d shimmy up,
Grateful for family in the house below but
Not needing them to be grateful for everything else.
There was always enough space between
The stars for gratitude, no matter how cold.
Now, with my own family, I can hear time
Pacing back and forth on the roof, impatient.
I think about that garage roof in Rhode Island
Every year, but I no longer need to see stars.
Posted by Jeff Schwaner
Categories: Poetry
Tags: 8, new year's eve, skylark
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Grateful for you, Jeff.
By Ann Koplow on January 1, 2019 at 10:27 am
Happy New Year, AK!
By Jeff Schwaner on January 1, 2019 at 10:49 am
I’ll drink to that. Happy New Year, Jeff!
By Chris Furst on January 2, 2019 at 11:29 am
And to you and Tanis!
By Jeff Schwaner on January 2, 2019 at 9:30 pm