2023: the Year to Be
Though January thaws are easier
to appreciate later in the month
the Widow Wyile doffed her shoes
and socks to spring and squelch
from one mossy spot
to the next
about the trees
behind her house
sing-songing:
What could 2023 be
but the year to see
me be me fill sky-high
with etherial certainty
that full on me is
the very best thing to ring in
full of well-kept surprises
who am I
what do I do
how about you?
why I am me
free to hop
free to sing
free to climb
free to leap
free to write and rhyme
any silly thing
silly things are vitamins
that spring your step
minerals that light your eye
that treat your spirit
to aeronautical adventure
and blue yonder yodelling
come rain come fog come mist
you need not good friends
resist the call to be
your very own exquisite
crystalline self
fall gently or swiftly
drift into splendid banks
of watery beings believing
their creation of bountiful
beautiful billowing beauty
every season of this year
with ever greater cheer
you see my dears?
the wiley wise Widow
wills and thrills it so
while Gorgeous nonchalantly
nibbles shrubs and yodels
(she likes to think she sounds brilliantly fine
like this twelve-year-old shine)