Year’s end always sends thoughts into the past.
Review and reflection. Celebrations and regrets. Conclusions.
But briefly. Then to a future near
and far but all unclear, unformed, undetermined.
Momentarily, no present. No now. No self.
I flow today like this two-hearted river.
My energies come from two different places
in my past that should have passed,
but they have pooled around me today.
I’m trying to empty them. Dissipation. Loss.
I no longer believe in the green
light on Daisy’s dock, or any place,
or the future moving away from me.
But I do believe we’re boats against
the current, borne back into the past.
“Gatsby” via www.flickr.com
A new year is drawn but shows
days recently erased still beneath. It’s repentance.
It has a long life. It bleeds
through the new work, day, life
and haunts the wet, freshly painted present.