New Year’s Day

I miss the glass stars

we hung in the kitchen window

at Christmas time,


blue, orange, red,

the big one in the middle

with the candle.


Light of the old year

gone, candlewick spent.

Decorations and ornaments

put away the last few days

of December


stripping the old year bare,

back to its unadorned state.

The holidays are like dresses,

fancy, glamorous, long and

covering. Fireworks that

illumine what—the year

going or the one coming?


We won’t know until this

December 31, when the same window stars

have come and gone

once more


and this year’s white wax

is spent.



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