Happy New Year X
New Year Half the world is hurting, turning its face to shadow. Moldering moments, kindle to flame, are undefined images, lost to a cold, northwesterly wind, licking at the edges where the numbness fades. Firs stand conspicuous among their naked cousins, all tendenous needles and cadaverous cones. The sky is leaden. The streets are all unchartered lanes. An unknown bird calls out this new day; this new year. Everything is redeemable. ©AndrewJamesMurray
City Jackdaw 
This was one of my favs in your poetry collection when I first read it…and it still speaks to me. Especially your final line…
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I nail my colours to the mast with that final line.
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