Ring Out The Old - Bring In The New

Once a year, for however many we've lived,
We celebrate each fresh, new arriving one as a gift given.
Each year we reflect on the seriousness of the meaning,
And each January first we all do a mental evaluation and some spiritual house cleaning.

It makes us feel like we're improving and very well progressing
Even if we halfheartedly admit our lack of enthusiasm and, maybe, digression.
As we write this lengthy list of all the ways we plan to improve,
We reserve some leeway to cover our "failing list" and to disprove

Just how frail we are, and oh so forgiving of ourselves.
About June we've no doubt set this lengthy list up on the shelves
And feel so justified if we keep even a fraction of our high ideals
And that January first, mile-long list is relegated to the proverbial court of appeals.

Lucile I. Burke
December 30, 1996

 

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The Everlasting Garden - poems by Lucile I. Burke
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The Everlasting Garden

I Know Now

Till Death Do Us Part

To Hold Your Tiny Hand

The Little Lost Lamb

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