hermit fish

December 2011

New Year's Eve

Everywhere I lookbaby
 the roses picked
 probably the last of the season
 the logs burning
 since early morning
 woody incense
the candle before
 the Child in the straw
 the sun catching
 the photo
 of me
 at two years
 another child
 the vegetables
winter colors
 in the hanging basket
 hanging also
 the line pots and pans
the spice rack
 an African palette
 a table piled with books
 notes and files
 a smile in
 my spirit
 to describe

New Year's Eve − Morning

I got up early
 to watch
 the sun rise
 on the
 last day of the year
 mauves, pinks
becoming gold
 light white
 even with my tea
 too cold
 for outside
 I pulled a chair
 to the window
 the beginning of the end
 “Saint Sun”
 the Celts
would say