it’s the eve of

new year’s

and it’s snowing

–

puffs of flakes

in sugar cube sorrow

clinging to the

tips of

frozen pussywillows

–

firm cotton-like

wispy down

clumps of

cauliflower

–

observing people

drunkenly careen across

the whited out

blacktop

infants daring to

take their

first steps

–

they all have plans

i’m sure

–

resolutions are easy

before you start

–

let’s wait to see

if they greet

tomorrow