At the end of the year
When the year just resurrects
Another year I cleared
My small closet of all
I'd counted on the treasures
I'd stashed away and found
An old shopping-cart
And piled all of them in
And walked the streets
Of last year's dreams
It all had to go
Into memory's savings account
And little by little would
Until that closet was empty
The shelves cleared of dust
A few hangers jangling
To hang the future on
How else stay calm
How else go on
No comments:
Post a Comment