Tired,
staring disappointedly,
disappearing into Time"s darkness,
"midst shouts, bottle pops, memories,
music... pretending
to stay Its unfinished term.
Yet leave It did... in images
lighting the electronic screen,
as golden voiced announcers
smile at Its demise
"mid hopeful wishes
for a successor still to be seen. Suddenly, quiet,
the world motionless,
while the dog at one"s feet,
awakened by deadened noises,
stretched in puzzlement...
"Happy New Year!"
Memories of Lombardo,
the dropping ball heralding the end,
or the beginning,
when everything changes -
in the calendar.
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