Here’s a New Year’s poem written by an Oregon poet:
new year’s dawn
The bird bath is frozen,
the sky is
garbage can gray.
At the feeder, nothing but
chickadees, sparrows,
a meddlesome jay,
boring birds
relentlessly pecking
at my heart.
Therefore
against all hope
I devote this year
to Prosperity
for the smallest
of the small
for the plainest
organs of the planet
for all those almost
inaudible songs.
—Charles Goodrich
1 January 2011
—–
Awesome poem.
Thanks, Charles.
Anita and Jim
