New Year, New Trails

New Year, New Trails

The first day of this year
we wipe the slate clean
of last year’s failings, prickly
like cacti of the Nevada desert
or nettles clinging to empty
purses of losing gamblers,
and while migrant birds
open their melodic mouths
like the Mormon Tabernacle Choir,
the two of us peer through the window
shouting “Hallelujah”!
From the rooftops
of all the ancient shrines
holy men sing the year’s
praises above the grateful throngs,
voices clear as footprints in the sand.
January’s message, the first
hint riding on the icy wind.
Snowplow blades churn the drifts
of last year’s significance.
December departed, a give and take
of memories, then November,
October, traditions and leaves
changing colors like our thoughts.
The summer months, oppressive
and delightful in heat waves
across the arid sand.
We biked the Zion path
in that rocky terrain,
our self imposed barriers
knocked down, our silver
strands of hair
blowing like bliss
in the breeze.