A poem by Kate Barness

The new year awaits like a clean room
Windows flung wide open
Heavy with possibility of metamorphosis
Of a new, reformed me.

In the back of some old notebook

I’ll bullet point my new personality-
trendy,

toned,
tidy. (tired!)

Yet as the clock strikes its grand gesture
There will be no great transformation
I will stumble into my bedroom
And throw on my pyjamas from when I was 15.

I’ll still stir sugar into my tea
And spend the day in bed
Starting my book and shopping for calendars.

This is the way I’ll enter this new year
Like the 21 before it;
Welcoming the things that change
Comfortable with those that remain.