In a few more hours all the old things will peel away.
Shed like the skin of a snake and tumble in winds
that will be labeled yesterday.
Lester will call me and through the phone
his illegal cannon rebuilt since last year
it exploded will go off and hopefully
I will hear his voice again resound with
"Happy New Year."
We'll talk awhile, but then the girls
will want to get into the hot tub
and Lester will have to go.
I will go back to my poetry
thinking of gains and losses
of what went right and wrong.
Sip my whiskey and write some words.
The morning hours will end in silence.
Not a sad silence, but a calm reflective musing.
In mists of deep sleep I will welcome
the new year's first dream.
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