20-20 Foresight (HS 117)

It’s the New Year, the happiest
of them all so far.  Each one happier
than the last. Still, Sixty-five years running around
the sun can wear on one, even if
it were done on a shade-covered track
at the cold stroke of midnight. Sixty-five years
too of fireworks, the big bombs bursting last night
until 2:00 a.m., the worst cacophony
in recent memory, as always, my animals
needing comforting, as I might have too, as a baby,
until the wee hours, when, exhausted,
we at last snooze in the New Year morning,
and I awake again, amazed
to find out I’m still not dead.

* * * * *

Today’s word is


Use it in a piece of writing of any length and then post that piece as a comment below. I’d love to read it : )

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