Sunday, January 6, 2013

First Entry In A New Notebook For A New Year


The pages flip with cooperation of
Index finger and thumb.
A purr of flickering whiteness ---
Respectful, quiet, numb.

It’s way too soon now to divine what
Kind of year it will be:
The handwriting isn’t yet on the wall
Where anyone can see.

A prayer descends like a shadow
Eager to be bestowing
Strength to deal with whatever
Spitballs fate is throwing.

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