a bubble, burst
each time a year passes, I
feel it a little more
a sensation like hourglass sand
slipping through my calloused hands
I think of fizzles
champagne, popped
cold, crisp, unsweetened
an overflowing farewell to what we leave behind
and a toast to all we hope is ahead
Happy New Year, Elle.
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Beautiful!
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Santé!
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Bye, bye and hello
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Your poem captures the underlying sadness of New Year’s Eve. Hope 2020 is good to you Elle.
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Yep ❤
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Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
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i like this a lot😊 xx
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