That was the year
that was —
I present it to the flames
of purification,
scrying the images
for sign and portent
of brave futures unknown.
Outside, nature’s nudity
tears at my soul,
this cold dawn of realisation,
the privation of my heart, lost
somewhere between the sky,
that vast horizon
where a glacial sun greets,
sole testament to the day.
Last year’s summation
I’m sifting wheat from the chaff
Using discernment
Copyright Francis 2021
The Elloe Recorder 
This is beautifully penned. Touches my soul.
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