New Year, 2022
A pendant streetlight hung in fog
above the melting snow.
It lit bare treetops in the dark
that shadowed ground below.
As midnight party blared within,
I stood on porch without.
Some distant fireworks cracked and popped;
nearby I heard some shouts.
There’s Pete and Miley in Miami,
Ryan, Big Boi in New York.
A flashing ball, shrimp cocktails, all
the flying bubbly corks.
But I most cherish fog alone,
its simple, living peace
a fitting closing for this year:
a quiet prayer – release.