67

every January
a change in my reflection appears
its doorway opens a new chapter
behind are the scenes of you
a holiday hangover and a tree dismantled
silhouettes of queries yet to have its reasons
and a longer list of unanswered wishes
surely to fulfill in the upcoming seasons
as my Midnight Sun moves away
i stare into the Wolf Moon and its icy chill
in its opalescent tapestry above and below
awaiting snowdrops to awaken and smile

in my hopeful but slightly broken landscape
and vow not to lose faith and let the past dictate
my sunrises and sunsets

my beginnings and my end