New Year’s Resolutions

A helluva mess,
Times Square
after the ball dropped
and the New Year had officially
arrived on the heels of confetti
and spilled champagne.

As soon as the crowd dispersed
street sweepers were at the ready, unmindful
that they were cleaning up after a birth.
It might just as well have been a war

except on the second day
The Square was reclaimed;  gridlocks
resumed,  leaving no sign
of celebration or confrontation.
By the third day it was done…forgotten,
even the resolutions.

Keeping the Song

The branch deserted by the fallen leaves
Is naked now beneath a winter sky.
Iced over with the chill of season’s freeze,
It lives though splash of colors fade and die.

Some doubt the worth of this now barren limb,
What purpose for it when the bloom is gone?
The dull would dare to sever it from stem;
Such minds, not axes, need a whetting stone.

What flagging faith can’t outlast a season;
What pallid vision can’t foresee the spring?
If we abide the slight of sense and reason,
Where would the wintering bird sit to sing?

Though skies are dark and winter’s season long
A barren branch gives home to vibrant song.