Sitting on the picnic table top,
shivering in the cold,
I should be in washing dishes
or folding all those clothes.
The New Year has dawned
and it rained sometime last night,
the air smells freshly bold as
my slippers warm my toes.
Sitting on the tabled top,
shivering as I grow old,
I should be taking decorations down,
not battling my past foes.
The New Year’s dawn
should make me strong,
enough to face chilled blight,
and lighten mind-fear’s hold.
Sitting on the warping top
a bird alights above,
the kitten races up the tree
even though it knows,
the New Year’s day
won’t bring an easier road,
I should take a lesson here
but that’s not how it goes.
Sitting old and shivering
my coffee’s getting cold,
there is more warmth inside
or so at least I’m told.
The New Year has dawned,
my mind still horizoned below;
will I ever truly belong
in a world that remains lulled.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 1/1/04