{the #MoSt Poetry: 17}

Prompt #17 (for December 31st)— What Are You Doin’ New Year’s, New Year’s Eve? — Write a nocturne — a poem set at night. Maybe this will be a journal of a night vigil, or a prayer at nighttime. Perhaps it will be a lyrical exploration of the transitions and emotions that occur between twilight and first-light. Possibly it will be an account of an Eve (New Year’s, Graduation, All Hallows’, etc.) that went so very wrong—or so very right. It may be a list of all the best ways to spend (or survive) a whole night—or the quest for those ways. Ready>Steady>Bonne nuit!

I know people who, every year, read back over journals and emails and such, and actually make sense of the past. Himself has an app that breaks down all of his business emails so he can kind of keep track of communications and business conducted throughout the year. For myself, I find all of this… kind of gobsmacking. I’ll never be that good at keeping track of what I/he/she said and what happened, and I find it a tiny bit tedious to go back over things… of course, this from someone who didn’t learn to revise papers, really, until grad school. I am of the school of Get It Right The First Time, but life has no such guarantees. I hate looking back, because I see all of the mistakes and things… if there is to be a reckoning, I want it to be when there’s still a chance to fix things. But, again: life. You can only fix what you can. As you look back over 2019… good luck. May your only concerns be what’s left in your bag that needs to be thrown out, so you can start over again.


the night the year turns
extracting the detritus
of an auld lang syne
made up of bullet journals
and unknown, worn business cards.

yearly summation
like women cleaning purses —
we plumb our own depths
shocked by the mess erupting
of pasts – packed and forgotten –

here, our promises
there, resolutions, amidst
stale crumbs and wrappers –
a trail, marking good intent
a map, unfolding hindsight.

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