dec 29

this year the snow came after xmas
and only a light dusting at that
     confectioner’s sugar,
          with none of the sweetness of a real snowfall

it is soggy;
     rain drips down from the eaves

there are many sore thumbs sticking out of our threadbare blanket
     grass and twigs and bits of leaves
          and someone’s trash – bright blood-red with a plastic film

so here we are again to welcome the new year
     the clean slate tricks us;
     we pretend we can start anew, vanquishing past ghosts
          which poke through,
          bits of leaves and twigs and grass

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