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 Welborn, 2013