December 31, 2024Poem

Wrapped and swaddled

lossnaturememorytimemortality

Wrapped and swaddled

Hunched and brooding

Hands clasped tightly

Around a mug of mulled wine

A bed before midnight

Asleep as the bells chime

There are no phone calls

None made or received

When once champagne corks

Popped

Drunk straight from the bottle

Jammed-up

Surrounded by strangers

On the embankment

Watching fireworks

Making a few

As the night wore on

Finding a bed in which to sleep

Somewhere

Eventually.

Too many people spent time

Throwing it away

To consider

The future.

A bed before midnight

Not on your life!

Today there is nothing to celebrate

The solstice was more than a week ago

What did the druids ever do for us

The pages turn

On the Roman calendar

Another year

Older

Too much to remember

Too little to regret

For Auld Lang Syne.

In fond remembrance

Of another time

When too many people

Believed they had more

Than time to spare.

Where are they now

Where have they gone

The upstart needs a jump-start

Asleep at the back

Lights out

At midnight

Toasting in the year

In the morning

With a cup of strong coffee

Fortified with a splash

Of scotch whisky.

Happy days

To the dinosaurs

And the mouth breathers.