Procuring Happily Ever After
She freezes on a cracked plastic patio chair.
Morse code sleet sings “Auld Lang Syne.”
Coffee steam travels
north with piercing gusts
toward Times Square.
A teaspoon, overly used and rarely polished,
sleeps frostbitten on the table outside.
Planet earth rotates toward a new year
as she whispers her resolutions
into her styrofoam cup, quickly pouring
the contents out as not to spill
her secrets during daylight. She shuffles inside to stare
at the sparkling stars flickering
next to the scent of pine one last time.
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