A Reluctance for New Wine
/The fabric of threadbare hope
Stretches toward year's end.
Pieces of frayed ambition extend
To cover the old wineskins
That many disclaim
But few set aside.
Like children clutching tattered dolls,
We hug in vain security
The rags of the past,
Because in some degree
They are accommodated to our wills.
The outworn selves we cling to
Can be our own
The more as time goes by:
We patch and mend
In order to possess.
The New
Stirs something deep within—
But I would not willingly admit it.
(Dec. 31, 1977)
Photo: "Sofa" by Gzooh. CC License.
