The same old, same old,
day after live long day.
Fridays felt like Wednesdays,
Tuesdays like Thursdays,
Mondays like the day of the sun,
not the day of the moon.
At least Saturdays felt saturnine,
dark and heavy,
like the planet and the god.
This year can’t end quickly enough.
Everyone says that.
It has been a bad year.
Everyone says that.
The year of intense compression.
Diamonds or dust.
Not everyone says that
but it feels that way.
At 11:59 p.m. on December 31
time will tip toward the future
but will not tip away from the past.
No magic midnight eraser.
No mistake white-out.
No backspace and delete.
The past comes with us.
Yesterday is part of today.
No tabula rasa.
2021 is no blank slate.
But we can choose to make
more of a difference,
not just more of the same.
Happy New Year!!!