Thursday, December 29, 2011

A Resolution

This year
is elderly

monthly shoulders
sagged in protection

toward a cavernous chest
heavy with days, hours
or crumpled moments

When it was young
the year knew itself
told no secrets

Now it quivers
toward me,

to take to
the grave all it
has born

since I do not know
I would learn
to tell time for you

For instance,
love is
just a yearling
on lengthy legs

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