Posted in life, New Work, Poetry


Every new year
starts a bit belated
for me,
as has much in my life –
including same.

I shrug off resolution,
impervious to the habitual
regular refrains
of strangers and peers…

I’m hesitant to use the “promise”
of (a) new year
as excuse;
An empty motivation
toward what I neglected to attempt
in the year yester.

Time is only lost when it is ignored.

And so this year arrived anew,
as prompt as they always muster.
Somehow I didn’t notice
until after
that first, shiny new day
faded into the diaphanous folds
of precious memory.

Maybe I’m more jaded now,
my proclivities for newness
and also novelty
appear to have lost their luster.


Curating Personal Year 9. Wife and mom of 3. Writer. Zentrovert. Aspiring Engineer. Resident Badass.

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