one old year frightful as ice road trucking and tonight kneeling, a soundless corner in the dark anteroom she gathers from memory roses budding and leaves falling and roses budding
in a goodbye bouquet ax scented with pine and eucalyptus. the sheet rock is chipped, a foot square round hole in the wall clear through to the next room from which dust blows and circles over her bowed head. am i praying she wondered distracted by winging banners of three airplanes caboosed outside the window overhead lit up with red and white and what words they spell and what it said raggedly and waving in flowing ribbons. a message she thought and smiled at how much work there is, for no more like this again but
quiet quiet now as an outstretched arm emerges n beckons 'come forward' draped with shadowy folds of fabric a loose embrace bell sleeve and the sound of silver bracelets jingling and trembling a heartbeat seems remote but deafening. 'good bye' she said, 'old year in time'
