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.