In every corner of the globe in far-flung civilizations
I imagine folks are planning tonight’s celebrations.
This finale of the year will bring a brilliant end
to last year’s resolutions that we saw fit to bend.
This year we will get it right. There will be no debate.
We’ll resolve to start again. We won’t equivocate.
We’ll get pally with old friends we haven’t seen for years,
clean out stuffed closets and pay debts that are long in arrears.
This year as midnight approaches and we sing “Auld Lang Syne,”
the mistake that we made last year in drinking too much wine
will not be repeated, for we’ll avoid the bars
and start our New Year resolutions under the brilliant stars.
Spread out under Orion, we’ll construct our list of “do’s”
to become perfect in those ways that only we can choose.
We won’t eat so much chocolate. We’ll exercise each day
and weigh each night to see how many pounds have slipped away.
We will not play loud music so won’t be held to blame
and hope that all our neighbors will resolve to do the same.
We’ll keep our yards trimmed neatly and repaint all our shutters,
relieved that for this year at least we won’t hear neighbors’ mutters.
We’ll take bags when we walk the dogs and bring their poops all home
so folks for blocks around will not dread it when we roam.
We’re not perfect now, but in twenty-twenty-two,
we’re weeding out bad habits and starting out anew.