January 1 is always the same
A bacchanal of sound and fury
Signifying something ineffable
Precisely timed though
Imprecisely valued
We pause to notice the flow
Of time’s endless river
Hoping to gain some measure
Of how far we’ve sailed
Or at least gratitude
To be journeying for
One new day
One new month
One new year
One last chance
A poem by Franklin Oliver
© Gayle Force Press 2015
The WhoDeannyPod 