New You

This poem is for FOWC: Overhaul. I haven’t had many ideas today, let lone good ones — the idea-stream is more of a gurgle than anything substantial — so this is what I’ve got. 🙂 This form is called an ottava rima.

“New year, new you” — the advertisements say,
Yet this won’t stick — a massive overhaul.
The trick is making habits that will stay,
Significant they are, although they’re small.
The sense of overwhelm might be allayed
By breaking up the steps, no task too tall.
It’s not one day which causes change to last,
It takes small steps to let go of what’s past.

At the End of the Year

As probably everyone is writing about today, it is New Year’s Eve, the last day of this dumpster fire called 2020, and tomorrow is the first day of the new year 2021. I wasn’t particularly excited for this day because it’s not like everything is going to go away at midnight, like what happened to Cinderella at the ball, only good. New Year’s Eve seems unnecessarily weighty, especially this year. However, of course there is hope; there is a sense of newness and possibility, which inspired this tanka for MLMM’s Heeding Haiku. The photo is from exactly one year ago. Let’s hope we can start writing in cafés again! 😀

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no title seems good for this….

This is a haibun for FFFC #98 and Frank J. Tassone’s haikai challenge about the New Year / Cold Moon. I tried to come up with a good title, but they were all either too silly or too sad. I don’t want to make the reader sad right from the get-go. 😉

She lies awake, waiting for the ball to drop in Times Square, for the new year to be ushered in with customary fanfare — or what passes for fanfare (or custom) in these strange times. Times Square is empty, people in their homes, hoping for a fuller year ahead.

silent snowy night:
2021 tiptoes
wolf under cold moon

New Year

A New Year haibun for Frank’s prompt and for FOWC: Open

I’m afraid my 20/20 vision sees doomsday coming, but the truth is, the year is open to every possibility. The fear is real, but so is hope. The question is: Am I open?

New Year’s Eve party:
Glad welcoming committee
At stroke of midnight

Words Insufficient

This is inspired by Poets United midweek motif: year’s end. Thinking about what to write, I feel a heaviness. This year has been full of horrible downs but has not been all bad; my friends, especially, have helped me to experience the good in life and to remember that I am loved. 

How can I encapsulate

An entire year

In a few lines,

In a few words,

In a number: 2019?


In a time capsule

For this year —

A graduation cap,

A plane ticket to Hawaii,

A bouquet of flowers.


In the flying time

Through this year —

Many excruciating days

Many bitter tears,

Many wishes for days to disappear.


How can I encapsulate

This imminent year’s end

In a few lines?

In my heart lies

An aching beyond words.