Today's poem is by Kim Addonizio
Poem for the New Year
So far it's suspiciously similar
to the old year: the same wild coldwind circling the yard,
and that oozy substancestill clings to the carton of orange juice
I lift from a shelf in the fridge.Also, I notice that my face
in the bathroom mirror,fresh from the bed's wrappings,
looks a bit worn.Last night, in my neighborhood,
a few guns went off amid the firecrackers,surely a sign that something new
was entering the world,though the sounds were identical
to the small-arms fireemitted from the war documentary
I was watching on TV.It's possible
I missed the transition entirelyby not attending a drunken party,
wearing a pointy hatand tongue-kissing a few strangers,
and so am still livingin the previous year,
where the windows are rattlingin the storm
and the front door suddenlyslams open
and I just as quickly rush to slam it shut.
Copyright © 2007 Kim Addonizio All rights reserved
from Pebble Lake Review
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission
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