The End Of The Beginning.

A night cycle beneath bats;

that's the way
I end my New Year's Day

too tired to plan my path
I increase my ride by half
at least

in tired shoes
tired feet
still covered in last years dirt

pedal towards home
to shower
and wash off
last years hurt.

In The New Year, Out Of Tune No More

I've made up my mind:

rather than resolving
to do
or not do

this year
my New Year's resolution
will be of the musical kind

where chords played previously
out of harmony

are returned
to the sweet simplicity

of the starting key

that root chord, a double tonic
medicinal in properties

my start,
my centre,
my very core

dischordant
no
more.

Saturday

It's Saturday night
and I'm home
alone
in lacy underwear
and I need a plan

not just for the immediate

(a dress to wear,
shoes,
some vague itinerary)

but for life

the new year looms

and I have no idea
whether to attack it
or embrace it

or nonchalantly avoid eye contact
waiting for 2011
to make
the first move.

Can one be coy
with one's career
one's hopes for love
and fulfillment

and if we throw ourselves at
opportunity
allowing the disguise
of insouciance
to slip off
like a dress
discarded in passion's haste

will we feel
red faced
ashamed
in the morning?