Another Year

It’s Christmas day

And anomalously

Just now I plucked

A dandelion from the

Front lawn with a white

Plumose Crown

And my mother said
To me: You can’t
Be too sure otherwise

Those seeds will be airborne
Before we get to New Year’s

And I thought to myself 
Another year another war

But it seems as if

This time around

With trowel close to hand
And a new Moon sitting
Two fingers adrift in
The western sky

The spheres have turned
And the growing season 

Is already here