Serpents converge on a word.

 Serpents converge on a word.
             The seasons crash down the year’s
  bumpety months.
   Let's to the New Year 
             in blue ribbons and gold
                         leaving November's Styrofoam day
                                     to steam in its dull hand.
  
 This wind can't move our shadows.
  
 Gather by the bells then
             and muscle up words
                         like struggle and hope.
  
 Love to Amy from James.