The Miasma of Dawn

When midnight rolled around

my head was clear, full of gaiety, frolic, and fun.

When the clock struck twelve,

I opened the door

threw the old year out

dusted my hands of past deceptions,

lost dreams, and trauma.



Two-thousand and ten was finally dead to me,

dead as the man I’ve loved close to half a century.

Yet, the miasma of dawn for twenty-eleven

brought only a fog of reality,

a hazy future,

murky at best,

with a fine pall of hope .