Another year to mend those fences if you can,       
those tattered hearts, to water grass on this side   
till it's as green as the other.
Let us have champagne and pickled herring,
a chunk of rye bread and poems for breakfast.
Let that pale sun rise far to the south
and ice creep up north windows.
                        My African friend says
                        I wish u best of d best. 
Funny how beliefs fall away as we age —
dreams, ideas, salvations,
all dropped along the way
till there's just this —
cold ash in the fireplace
and an empty wine bottle.
              Still there are rainbows
              scattered on the ceiling
              from a crystal someone gave me
              long ago, and hope,
                             always there is hope —
that this year will bring us peace                
also that thing we most desire                    
                            and may they be the same,
                            forever may they be the same.

© by Sharon Auberle.
Used with the author's permission.