Last day of a year I’d rather
forget dawns gently – one never
regrets pale pinks’ lingering
against defining lines of darker
blue horizon; one doesn’t
regret dawn promises anew.
And yet evolution of this day
makes no true headway, the
beginning is not an end to the
mystery; will the answer be
in tomorrow’s light or lost
in the gloom of yesterday?
© 31 December 2008, I. D. Carswell
thought-provoking, I'm afraid some answers hide in the past, and if lost, then we may have to live temporarily without them, until they find us disguised as repeating questions.
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