Celebrations

Each celebration,

not truly celebrated.

Kind of, blown away

in the wind.

As I wash the dishes

on a lonely New Year’s Eve,

I think to myself,

‘Someday this will all be different.

And I will be with somebody

I do not even know yet.’

Though, why am I illustrating

something that is not guaranteed?

To bring in the new year,

many more from now,

I could still be alone,

but in a different house.

And I may not have found them

and I may have lost them.

And I could still be alone.

Waiting for another Christmas,

another Valentine’s Day,

another new year

to blow away in the wind

until it is my time

to be swept away

with it.