December, 2018 - - Barbara Hirschfeld

[Larry Robinson]

December, 2018
 
How can it be? so late in the year.
I feel myself spinning 
in ever increasing speed
toward the black hole of solstice
like a piece of discarded meat
gets spun 
toward the drain and the grind
of the garbage disposal.
 
Bears retreat to caves.
Makes sense.
Although the waning light 
brings every remaining yellow and red leaf
still clinging to the tree
sharply into focus
and heightens yearning
to a fever pitch
which we translate 
into frenzied purchases.
 
All the resolutions of the past year
are now revealed
as fantasy
once again
I haven’t changed.
All the money spent on transforming me
into something else 
is noted in the spreadsheet 
- a fool’s golden attempts.
 
So drawn towards sleep 
in this waning light
which panics me further 
for what nightmares might
arise and become real enough 
to reach through the screen
of projected dreams
and kill me.

	- Barbara Hirschfeld