Early Breath

Old year to my left
New one to my right
I paused to check the old
Before I took my flight

I stopped to once consider
All that passed before me now
I let it wash and cover me
And furrowed, then, my brow

The old was not all pretty
The old was not unmixed
Within it stood a million moments
Placed in time and fixed

Yet there among the tarnished
Bright gems were sparkling still
And steadily my brow began
To soften at their will

I doffed the introspection
I straightened, head held high
My gaze was set -- my wings were still
With purpose . . . time to fly

~End Quote (self)

[photo: Louisiana State Capitol]