New Year’s Day

.

Black Carrion birds

  encircle the sky,

in search for the dying or dead.

.

A lone little squirrel

  scampers right by –

A whole ‘nother world lies ahead.

.

Last year’s leaves 

  still cling to the vine,

they rustle and rattle in wind.

.

An old man clings to the end of a line,

the dog, to the end, a best friend.

.

New Year comes on

  past the last, having gone,

and the moment goes on to the end.

.

New Year’s Day, as some one will say,

is the same way New Year’s always been.

.

Again, and again;

  and again.

.

.

.

©Marvin Loyd Welborn, 2013

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