COVID Winter: New Year's Eve

[mrissa]

Next year will wash this year's socks
Eat this year's leftovers
Bury this year's dead.
Slate morphed out of shale
Always carries its past,
Never blank. What we failed
This year still lies crumbling.
What we built still stands.

Comments

[oracne]

Thank you for this.

[anne]

Yes.

[swan_tower]

A few years ago I began copying poems I like into sort of a commonplace book. This is one of several of yours this year that have gone into it.

[mrissa]

That's lovely to know, thank you.