Last Year

the saddest year beckoned but you
did not know that yet
confetti in your hair

or snow or the leaves drifting,
the last leaves
the crystal moon dipping

further down the sky

another year they cried on tv
hugging each other
insane with surprise that

they'd survived another one.
from coast to coast
or all around the world

under their various sunrises
wishing it would be-
what was to be-

dripping with tawny happiness

straight from the honeycomb itself.
oh we would be drenched in light Eternal
like the flowers in the

impressionists gardens
somewhere, outside the museums.
it's in the air, isn't it

in the cold razzle dazzle
happy as in it's your birthday
every day and here it comes

the year long birthday cake
with every candle lit
well, doesn't it?

seem that way to you?

only not, this time,
a something chimes from out the deep.
maybe, next time.

mary angela douglas 31 december 2015