A New Year Perhaps (Poem)

Written by

Kel

poems, poetry

I can say nothing about a new year.

When did it begin, and how did we know?

I look back over the past few days,

Seeking to recall that liminal space that others must have entered.

I never was there, stood on no threshold,

Took no step that had such transformative power.

I attended a party organized to announce this event

But must have glanced away during the crucial moment.

My days look no different when I awaken;

The sounds of the night hold no strange new tones.

But that evening a stranger on an unfamiliar motorcycle

Pulled in the driveway, met my eyes briefly, and then departed.

Perhaps he was the transitionary herald, signaling change with a wave of his hand,

Leaving nothing but the faintest slick of an oily rainbow

To glisten on the cold pavement under the moon.

Comments

3 responses to “A New Year Perhaps (Poem)”

January 3, 2024

Richard Moyer

The Lowly Know: Hints of Winter Hope

Cultures other grant nourishment
In searching for early, wild greens.

My post-holiday hunt began anew last week;
Gently among soft-soil patches of
Lowly chickweed and creasies.

Tiny, white flowers at
Tips of green stems
Greet me on New Year’s Eve.

“You’re a day early”;
My unthankful, hidebound reply.

As I pick, sort, gather, wash, toss, eat,
Then digest fresh greens
They speak again
“Taste and see, spring is coming”.

Reply
January 3, 2024

andifnotnowblog

What an amazing comment! My favorite lines: “You’re a day early”;
My unthankful, hidebound reply,
I cannot imagine you as the former, though we are all the latter, no? Do you connect the two?
K

Reply
1. January 3, 2024
  
  Richard Moyer
  
  Most thankful to you Kel, for opening this wormhole. For me to explore why greens in the shortest days of years feed my body and soul.
  
  “You’re a day early” immediately came out of my mouth. But then I realized how small I am, in expecting a plant to follow a Gregorian Calendar, waiting until the next day.
  
  I first wrote “unthankful, unthinking, hidebound”. Then debated whether to drop the first or second of the three.
  
  When living, traveling and cooking whole foods in Korea (Feb thru July), I so cherish the times of foraging wild foods together with elderly women. Having learned the words for soup, stew, stirfry, braising, they could share with me how to pick, prep and cook certain wild foods.
  
  A Korean food science prof shared with me the value of early, mountain greens, in Asian culture. As I read and listened more on the topic, found that S. European foodways overlap here.
  
  So my unthankfulness is perhaps moreso contentment in my ignorance of wild, fresh foods. Which serve as tangible, concrete reminders to get humans thru the winter together. Signposts along the way.
  
  When in Norway, my Kiwanis host shook her head in pity, of the foods we N. European caucasians in the US no longer eat, which are still enjoyed there. Her pity for my ignorance, my unknowing cultural loss, has pushed me thru the years to be more adventurous in the foods I forage, grow and eat. And to be on the lookout for certain greens or fruits which are signposts in any food culture, or family heritage. Especially the ones “out of season”.
  
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A New Year Perhaps (Poem)

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