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The second day of the New Year
opens its eyes
Broken resolutions lay
on the floor like a shattered champagne flute
Sweep them into the dustpan
and lay them to rest with the stale leftovers
You think they are forgotten
Yet they merely lay buried
with the second verse of "Auld Lang Syne"
and the tiny shard of glass
that pricks your foot
in the most tender spot
like a broken promise.
submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Kerry Says: Let's Make a Few Resolutions
