The year
(too tired to continue)
limps to its
conclusion.
It has its usual crop
of natural & man-made disasters
wars...famines
etc., etc., etc.
the inhuman-ness of being
human
leaving me
like a seashell
in its tsunami
of Time
yet another piece
of human wreckage
mere
flotsam
as the paralysis
grips me tighter
a hard rain falling
on the appeals
of the New Year's
bells.
Dónall Dempsey
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/new-year-s-bells-for-onelia/
