New Year

An old year stoops, grey shadows on his face,

Each passing month left him with deeper marks

He bore the scars with unlimited grace,

But earthly woes have left him feeling stark

The kindness in his eyes glimmers as tears

The months have brought him pain beyond compare

Yet something warm still flickers through his fears

Hope comes to touch his skin withered and bare.

At dusk he lays his weathered coat aside,

Feeling a gentle slowing of his breath;

The sun drops down, darkness begins to stride,

He prays for earth as he is claimed by death.

A new year walks in through the solemn door,

Laying to rest the year that lived before.

Author's Note

Of hope.

Reviews

[John the Baptist]

Having seen quite a few painful deaths as a hospital worker, I'd say the old year's passing was a rather easy exit.

[BuzzyB]

Yes it did in fact slip away on the dot of 12. While many others had a such a difficult time. Thank you for that thought.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

Amazing metaphor carried throughout this poem BuzzyBee.

I feel like an old year right now.

j.

[BuzzyB]

Thank you so much for your visit and kind words....