I stare out the window pane on New Year’s Eve
into the blackness of night, interrupted
by the burst of crimson light from a bottle rocket
and the hoots of horns and bangs of pans,
Slurred songs carry muffled merriment my way,
Yet it only makes my heart pang even more.
My Lover has not returned or sent word,
His promise sustains my heart with hope,
This wretched blackness will fade to light
like a drenched watercolor bleeding paint,
But for tonight, I will close the shades,
And sob louder than the world’s clamor.