January

from dark December
January looks
pristine under
the bright expanse
of New Year
resolutions:
stop smoking,
visit old auntie,
be kinder to
the neighbours.

as we plod on
our steps get
dirty underfoot;
the white snow
murky,
down-trodden
slush.

best of intentions
have lost their lustre.
the first trip
to the corner store
has already been made.
no phone call to auntie.
the neighbours . . . .

as always
January concludes
sadly sullied.