New Year, 2022

A pendant streetlight hung in fog

above the melting snow.

It lit bare treetops in the dark

that shadowed ground below.

As midnight party blared within,

I stood on porch without.

Some distant fireworks cracked and popped;

nearby I heard some shouts.

There’s Pete and Miley in Miami,

Ryan, Big Boi in New York.

A flashing ball, shrimp cocktails, all

the flying bubbly corks.

But I most cherish fog alone,

its simple, living peace

a fitting closing for this year:

a quiet prayer – release.