New Year’s Eve
Is this day a
precipice, a cliff
From whose edge
we will fall?
Or, if it is a
precipice,
Will it also
serve as a hand glide launching strip
Janus-faced it
is,
Prompting me to
reflect in this mirror poem
All that has
filled the ending year, and
Prompting me to
see the year ahead
As a meadow,
lush with promise,
Inviting me to
plunge forward.
I reflect wars
and births, deaths
By car bombing,
sniper fire, foul water,
Strangulation,
stabbing, tripping,
Foul food, foul
air, greed, and corruption--
Sin in all its
many facets.
I shade my inner
eye, and
Look over the
landscape before me,
Rich with
promise, complex,
A
meadow.
--December 31,
2013
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