Post by rrw on Dec 31, 2011 3:17:13 GMT -5
The shadow of a new year
has wrapped itself around
the one working streetlamp
in the parking lot below
my rather small apartment.
It’s early in the morning
but still New Year’s Eve.
The thought that I’m
still here (though barely)
after all these many years
makes me sip at the
cold coffee in my coffee cup
and think about some resolutions
that, more than likely, I won’t keep.
This December is far too warm
for too much soul searching,
looking for those perfect dos or don’ts
which will make this wicker life
of mine seem somehow less fragile,
more like steel than flesh and blood and
worn-out memories of a time when
ringing in the New Year would be joyous,
a drunken night filled with Jell-O shots
in red, plastic cups, loud friends and laughing with friends
and that off hand chance that maybe just maybe
I’d hook up with that little blond chick that never paid
attention to my advances when she was sober.
No, there won’t be any of that. Just a quick
trip to the grocery store, maybe a flick
at the local theatre before it gets too dark
and the streets in Oklahoma City fill up
with young mischief makers. Safe at home
before I realize just how lonesome I am.
—rrw 12-31-11
has wrapped itself around
the one working streetlamp
in the parking lot below
my rather small apartment.
It’s early in the morning
but still New Year’s Eve.
The thought that I’m
still here (though barely)
after all these many years
makes me sip at the
cold coffee in my coffee cup
and think about some resolutions
that, more than likely, I won’t keep.
This December is far too warm
for too much soul searching,
looking for those perfect dos or don’ts
which will make this wicker life
of mine seem somehow less fragile,
more like steel than flesh and blood and
worn-out memories of a time when
ringing in the New Year would be joyous,
a drunken night filled with Jell-O shots
in red, plastic cups, loud friends and laughing with friends
and that off hand chance that maybe just maybe
I’d hook up with that little blond chick that never paid
attention to my advances when she was sober.
No, there won’t be any of that. Just a quick
trip to the grocery store, maybe a flick
at the local theatre before it gets too dark
and the streets in Oklahoma City fill up
with young mischief makers. Safe at home
before I realize just how lonesome I am.
—rrw 12-31-11
and 
all
time for me 
echoes, hope you all are doing well 
