More poetry

We moved into this house right after I was diagnosed, and had no time or energy to decorate or truly get settled.  We gave our giant oak bookshelf away, thinking it would be replaced by more mobile bookshelves.  Alas, those were never purchased and all my books are still boxed, in the garage.  So I can't idly saunter to the shelf, pull out a book on poetry and glance over it.  So Vox will have to be a repository for awhile, see how that works.

i am running into a new year

i am running into a new year
and the old years blow back
like a wind
that i catch in my hair
like strong fingers like
all my old promises and
it will be hard to let go
of what i said to myself
about myself
when i was sixteen and
twentysix and thirtysix
even thirtysix but
i am running into a new year
and i beg what i love and
i leave to forgive me


             —-Lucille Clifton

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