Jeanne's poetry bus.

Not just for auld lang syne

Don’t talk,

whatever you say-

say nothing.

The snakebitten poison of past,

a bone-eating cancer.

That past is still what it used to be,

the past made us,but

it does not rule us.

Past tense,

future bright.

Forget love, forget hate, forget past,

that’s another country

We must be go-aheads

No longer go-betweens

for loss and disruption

the veins of communication

the shot-up messenger

bearing false comforting plenitude.

We can sing a new way,

sing tomorrow’s song, today,

your hand in my hand,

for the future,

for this New Year,

for hope in your mind

and in mine,

for the promise of this newborn year,

no longer just singing by rote

for the sake of auld lang syne.