I find a new groove each new year.
Because, I walk away from here.
A season left to say my piece.
All creative work must then cease.
Free dayed entropy loose & large.
Free to let the battery charge.
Harvesting knowledge back of brain.
Break thru eurekas see stress wain.
Conscious & unconscious growth earned.
Schooled by both falls & fires that burned.
The din of holidays & mirth…
Install substance & enrich worth.
Happy hangover by next year.
I’ll return playful, bright & queer.
Just over two score days left now.
Then, my seasonal thousandth bow.