New Year’s Day
There is change in the air
smoke from wood burning stoves
linger above rooftops
Plows clearing streets
snowmen cropping up at an alarming rate
crows welcoming the dead
wingspans boldly contrasting
against whitened sky
Nobody saw the sunrise today
at least not in these parts
where there is no connectivity of
any kind to any grid
There are neighborhood stores
and places of worship and refuge
and children freely play outside
even on the coldest of winter days
new year’s day two thousand eighteen
copyright j matthew waters
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