January poem

by Krista Allen

January is two dimensional

A line between the past year

A sigh after holiday hullabaloo.

January places its slushy bootheel against our necks

Not yet. Wait. It’s too soon. Too cold. You’re too eager.

Restlessly, we watch for Nature’s cues to begin the next leg of the race.

January’s journey is set before us

Navigate the cold, the monotony, the solitude

Tiptoe across the viral landscape.

January is a gate, a chance, a choice

To begin anew, reevaluate, regress

A pause before releasing the slot machine’s arm, knowing it’s mostly luck.

January crosses its fingers as it whispers, laughs, watches us

Clawing towards the light at the end of the tunnel

Towards a promise of Spring to revive our faltering resolve.