For the new year

Some things have changed. Now, I tie my shoelaces

slowly, as if the bus I would be riding on is my own bus

and the other people are merely dream segments, rushing to

and from one another. I also read poetry with my mouth open

which is, of course,a sort of knee-jerk reaction,

a kick in the shin. When I walk I notice

that it is no longer skip skip skip but trot skip clump clump.

when I talk to family members I do not like, I say, please pass the onions.

One night, I was staring at a city light and it looked so finite and sad,

with nightglow all around it, feasting on its one good eye. From that

time on, I kept watching out for those lights, guarding them.

When I eat breakfast, its not just

bacon and eggs but it could be anything! Anything at all -- ice cream,

cold spaghetti, hard pink candy that never melts. I know

now the difference between an empty bench and a lone soldier,

the difference that lies between

the spaces you left behind, what I keep on filling.