autophage - poetry - start of 2026
I wrote this on New Year's Day - January 1st, 2026. It is effectively a twist on a sonnet.
There is no snow on even ground
But furrows shelter dust
A little white had fallen down
As old year fell to rust.
The air is cold within my nose
And down my mammal throat.
The world all thorn without a rose
I'm thankful for my coat.
I know this forest path quite well
I walked it in my youth
The air is cold, it murders smell
But me, I know the truth:
As chill as forest walk might be today,
A warmer path will come. And so I say
That life is worth the living, and I pray
This new year treats you well, each month and day.