On the Last Moment of Last Year

Photo by Zane Lee on Unsplash

How did you spend it?

~

When the calendar was

tossed a day early,

when the last hours of the

old year were folding? 

Would I find you holding

a cocktail or a clicker,

a phone or a lover,

or yourself, all alone

with the hour?

~

Was it a year wasted?

Or was it invested?

Were you tried and tested,

and when the ticker-tape fell

did you remember the highs or 

the lowest lows?

~

Did you water or sew?

Did you mend or break?

Did your dreams take 

a backseat or the wheel?

~

Were your eyes glued 

to the great shining idol

in Times Square,

in that last hour?

Did you cower ‘neath its glow?

Or take the bold and subtle stand 

of ignorance against it?

~

Were you consciously

deaf to the music?

Were you knowingly

blind to the lights?

Was it more than enough, 

to just shut it off, 

And go to bed early last night?

~

Did you stay up quietly at home 

or give of yourself and your dime?

Or pour out your love, or hold it inside,

or kiss your newlywed bride?

Or did you cradle a newborn, 

who breathed his first breath

just in time?

Or did you comfort

a teething toddler,

or dread the demands

of tomorrow?

~

When the calendar was

tossed a day early,

when the last hours of the

old year were folding:

~

How did you spend it?