New Year’s Eve
by Glenda Beall
With Champagne toasts
rowdy revelers
prepare for another
bright new year.
Loved ones, dear friends,
from years gone by
appear to me
at midnight.
Nostalgia
grips me in its glove.
Auld Lang Syne
evokes my tears.
This party is a wake
for the passing of time.
Celebrating is not in me.
Showing posts with label auld lang syne. Show all posts
Showing posts with label auld lang syne. Show all posts
Sunday, January 1, 2012
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