Best Procuring Poems

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,...

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New Years 2018: PROCURING HAPPILY EVER AFTER
                 PROCURING HAPPILY EVER AFTER

   I'm a young-man, yes I am 62 gettin younger;
And in the last year,  I've lost...

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