New Year’s Eve
5 p.m., corner booth,
Oak Bar, Plaza Hotel,
New York City, Center
of the World of all
that matters.
Where a Belvedere martini,
up with a twist, contemplates you
like a languid gold fish
in a clear garden pool,
or a suspended tear
that you can take back inside,
like that first full breath,
in case you need it,
as the world gets ready
to start all over again again.
Copyright Credit: Poem copyright ©2019 by Warren Woessner, "New Year’s Eve," from Exit – Sky, (Holy Cow! Press, 2019). Poem reprinted by permission of Warren Woessner and the publisher.