Sitting on the balcony
of this old brick building
on a gray Hogmanay
I finger blue glass beads
& whisper to cold clouds
benedictions, gratitudes:

bless the lord o my soul ...

I'm waiting for Mom
to come over so we can go
to Shanghai Village
for a cheap but hearty lunch.

My forty-eighth new year

finds me weary from bad sleep

but plodding along,

with hope and resolution.