The year’s resolution re-examined during December in this poem set against the gray sky in a shopping center parking lot.
gulls on december fifteenth
skim the opaque sky of
suburban shopping centers
and cry their banshee death knell:
this year…
this year…
this…
year.
another sacred vow broken
to yourself, by your self
of your
self.
three hundred fifty days
intentions failed to save.
on thanksgiving a tinge of
guilt visited
and overstayed its welcome.
next year.
next year…
next…
year.
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