The New Year Revisited

The new year
is reborn
after every slumber.
The moment of conscious
choice to place both feet on
the ground and move forward
is January first. Without
the confetti, streamers and champagne
but with equal opportunity at
freshness and renewal. The chance
to make that new year
goal is now and now and now now now
now is the time to move forward. Get out of bed. Stop
waiting for the new
year and embrace this moment.
I choose the rebirth of
the moment and can
barely fathom the
possibilities.
 

Memory Poem #4

Eyes clasp 

quickly divert

from flustered giddiness.

But you see it:

my knowing smirk.

Your head fills with red;

embarrassment and annoyance.

Uncertainty mixed

with a definitive belief

in swift retaliation.

Your eyes fall

on the pert shift

of my weight

from side-to-side

and the gentle

sway of my ass.

Your plan is concocted

as quickly as enacted.

Stepping forward

with determined strides,

you pull back your arm

for the wind-up-smack

prepared for my

unsuspecting ass.

You throw your arm forward

with malicious force,

only to be jarred

by the devastating thwack

of the back-brace

cleverly disguised

under my loose-fit clothing.

I spin in surprise,

observing a triumphant smirk

of successful revenge

as you turn

and triumphantly waltz away.

Trying to hide

your throbbing hand

under an armpit

and biting back

a whimper.