December 31
It is not quiet that follows
the storm of my own
making. They are not lost,
the clouds
that fall away
from clouds.
After all these years,
I am sad to be myself.
To be of the earth
and like the earth,
headed nowhere except
in circles.
When the planet winds
up where she started,
it is a cause
for celebration.
I am trying to be so generous
with my despair,
so hopeful.