RIP 2005

Good bye 2005,
year of bewilderment,
year of distress.
So long,
year of the relentless headache,
the cat-eating coyotes,
and the totally senseless
murder of Al.
Good riddance to August and the cruelty of youth,
to the harshness of change and the long days that followed...
to the year of the emergency room,
the critical care unit, the nursing home and the rehab joint.
Au revoir, beloved 1945 Westinghouse Commander, Bindi my love,
and Grandmother's living room rug.
Farewell Anne Bancroft, Johnny Carson, Richard Pryor,
John Fowles, Arthur Miller, Rosa Parks and Eugene McCarthy.
Farewell too, 26 years of constant mothering, and any
possibility of doing that again.
Go away George Bush, Tom DeLay, Donald Rumsfeld, Karl Rove,
Michael Brown, Paris Hilton, Michael Jackson,
Brad and Jennifer, Brad and Angelina, Jennifer and Angelina...

I will not miss you 2005,
year of pain and anger,
year of Katrina, the tsunami and Turkey,
year of accepting what is ultimately unacceptable.
I am glad that you are through.

And yet...
simply as a measure of time,
you offered much:
365 days of people and places and tasting
and touching, of words and thoughts and deeds.
Millions of chances to begin anew, to start again,
to rethink, to repay, to repair.
Time
for eyes to open
mouths to close
sorrow to diminish
and joy to grow.

Or not.

Good luck, Godspeed
Sayonara,
adieu.

Bring it on
and make it good
2006.