New Year’s Eve: Poem


We’ve walked
this long, mean street
365 days in a row—
true. Each one folded
out like the one before;

rows of windows are
vacant eyes, dusty
corners and sidewalks
lay strewn with broken bits
of hope. We tread these days,

step across the brim of time
and trust is putting one foot
in front of the other. I see light
move like a stream out
of you—fall into a river

that rushes to the ocean and
the sky breaks open and we
are shingled in starlight … we
pick our way through shining
orbs, feet light with dreams. All

that is behind is dark, and
before us, only light.