New Year’s Day

by Cynthia Good

Star shaped maple leaves covering the ground

So long cell tower dish sneaking in
the bedroom window, so long
to saying thank you to taxi doors
held open to slide across sticky seats.
So long to dragging our bodies into rooms
where we don’t want to go, into arguments
that aren’t our own. So long to trying
not to wake the children, to keeping
the shouting quiet. So long, long
marriage. So long to friends who left town
or the earth, to the driver who cuts you
off in traffic, and yells fuck you
through the windshield. So long to war
and worrying about my mother.
So long Mom. And maple leaves
fluttering up and painting the ground
red with stars. So long to day-sleeping,
to knobby knees on hardwood floors,
to breaking and being broken,
to waiting for something better,
or worse, so long to fear of being
pissed off or hungry. So long
to thinking I was lucky for so long.

Category: Featured, Fiction, Poetry