Sunday, January 02, 2011
Last Year (poem by Dorothy)
Last Year
You may think I have done with you,
but, no, you are still with me--
like a Christmas treat that I savored
and still taste slightly on my tongue,
a jewel or a precious book
that someone left for me
under the tree,
a strain of music
that still plays in
my head.
True, we played our game
of ups and downs,
our dance of
wins and apparent losses,
everything balancing out
pretty much
at the end.
What you gave me
is yet to be catalogued
fully,
but I’ve got the gist of it
here,
like a package I carry around
under my arm,
its contents yet
to be assessed,
unknown at this point
to anyone
until I say “open sesame”
and release the string.
Dorothy Walters
January 2, 2011
