January 1st, 2019…
It is cold enough….
There are clouds enough,
but I can not tell if that is fresh snow falling from them,
or if these are last night’s snowflakes still dancing in the new year,
riding the drunk and reveling wind in from last year somewhere.
They fly and swirl so lightly before the underwater eyes of this hungover head,
defying the undertow that draws everything to ground
and me back to bed.
These could be yesterday’s clouds.
The clock says it is morning,
and I’m willing to pretend–
I’m well practiced.
But I’ll not be convinced
of this new year, this new day
until the sun’s scepter turns the garden to melted butter
and Heaven’s clear blue gravity
lures my heart from behind the clouds.