A Poem for the New Year

Return

Where the Passy meets the Bay, we come together,

gathering like ducks at Solstice: 

Barrow’s Goldeneyes down from Hudson’s Bay,

here once again in sight of the old bridge,

bobbing  and drifting, each small bird complete

but always swimming near to one another.

We, too, drift in this bright stream,

floating a life, returning to light.

Note: The Passy is the local nickname for the Passagassawekeag River that empties into 

Penobscot Bay at Belfast, Maine. It's 4:22 pm, and I think it is a bit lighter this time of day than it was two weeks ago.