Tag Archives: new year’s eve

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12312018

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.

Last Days

Last Days

Told me to wait another two nights.
and the truth would rise like ice cubes

In a celebratory drink. Without taste
But accentuating the taste that’s there

Already, then adding volume to it
While weakening the taste but by then

It’s not the taste you’re after is it and where
Has it got to finally, absorbed, invisible?

The moon looks full but it’s not. Not that
It matters but it does. Like other things

That never happened but did anyway
And because they never happened never end