Purging the Old Away

Purging the Old Away 


watch the smoke billow higher,

toward cloud and moon.

the wood cracks and hisses

out its last words

then–silent. more to come.


sweep the confetti floors

till carpet is blue again.

new year purges the tattered memory

even when it tries to hang on

by a dusty cobweb thread.


 look around and ask–what’s left?

nothing but newness;

waiting to become


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