New Year's Eve December 31, 2o15

I promised some Facebook friends and myself that I'd post one more poem for 2o15. Difficult to write when you know you must do it rather fast. So, this is the best I could do. Good-bye, 2o15.

New Year’s Eve

The world, the whole world

smiles at me this dying evening
although I know no reason why.
I still feel the bitter winds
upon my face, this aging face
which has no reason to grin
so why should I?

This year has drilled a hole

so deep inside my sleeping soul
that I can see my memories
staring back at me from some place
far and even farther yet away
than the day that I was born.

And yet, my “self,” my intangible self,

can’t help but see within its dreaming eye,
a hope (a very fragile hope, I don’t deny)
that this childlike year to come
will be the better times for you and me.

So, I’ll lift a glass (metaphorically),

I might even sing a song (quite loudly)
when the watchman shouts at midnight
and frightens off that bearded old guy who
must bear the grief that we have seen
in these unpleasant  times of 2o15.

And perhaps I’ll find the sand to smile again

as we usher in the year to come.  Welcome, 
and welcome you surely are, 2o16.
Woodie 12-31-15