January 1, 2022. Beneath a warm wind that
rocks the pines, I walk through the aftermath of the war. I watched last night
as 2021 fought a desperate last stand battle against the descent of 2022. The
defenders failed. As they always do. The New Year arrived and now licks its
wounds and plots revenge. Of course, it will fall soon enough itself, though
now it feels its vigor and does not doubt it will last forever.
Those of us who have been through many such
wars, know better. And the crows abide.