Join us for Poetry Friday, hosted this Friday by Matt at Radio, Rhythm, and Rhyme
I began the old year by clearing out (gone is the Christmas tree and all the greens which had bedecked our house), sprucing up (new reading chair and markers for my classroom - answering Ruth Ayers' call on Two Writing Teachers for a fresh start), and launching a brand new unit for the new year in nonfiction reading and writing...so far so good. I like the idea of letting go of one year, especially all of its disappointments and regrets, and feeling that wonderful "starting afresh" notion of a brand new year...which is, I think, the general feeling of this poem by the incomparable Naomi Shihab Nye:
Burning the Old Year
Letters swallow themselves in seconds.
Notes friends tied to the doorknob,
transparent scarlet paper,
sizzle like moth wings,
marry the air.
So much of any year is flammable,
lists of vegetables, partial poems.
Orange swirling flame of days,
so little is a stone.
Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,
an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.
I begin again with the smallest numbers.
Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,
only the things I didn’t do
crackle after the blazing dies.