dreaming of another year

some people stay up to ring in the new year,

watch it burst like a glittery balloon

over the midnight horizon, count down the seconds

til it starts over again. they dress up,

shriek under streetlights, expect it. they want to see it

the moment it comes for them.

meanwhile, miles away, i stare out the crack in the blinds

into the darkened world outside. i recall the year past,

months out of order, pictures never taken. i

prefer to drift off to sleep before the ball drops -

alone in my bed with the old year

pulled up around me like a worn comforter

patterned with days gone by. i will wake,

i know, in the half-light of morning,

when the revelers are still drunk on champagne

and newly forged promises. I will walk

to the window and press my nose to the glass,

already wondering how the winter sunlight

will look against next year's snow.