the first cry

The 2025 cries It is morning the first after the birth of the new year, the jubilation was tingled with sadness Outside, the sun shines on our night pale faces But we feel a certain tristeza the sun shone Last year to while we busied around doing this and that, only to see we had forgotten to buy butter, and we have to do the dishes piled up Like a snow drift in the sink Who will dress and walk to the grocer the little Shop that never closes, I suggest to use olive oil on toast but is met with horrified silence