I am wrapping myself up
In the ends of the year
Quietly, with slow movements
The kind that shapes
The way we think
Letting go so gently
For all has been spoken
I walk the galleries
The galaxies of memories
Where poet’s words come from
Quietly, my old year, that shrivelled old senior
Falls asleep amidst the fireworks
That riotously run their course
Among the shooting stars
O shining.
*Burst of celestial fireworks NASA