Burning the Old Year by Naomi Shihab Nye
Burning the Old Year
Naomi Shihab NyeLetters swallow themselves in seconds.
Notes friends tied to the doorknob,
transparent scarlet paper,
sizzle like moth wings,
marry the air.So much of any year is flammable,
lists of vegetables, partial poems.
Orange swirling flame of days,
so little is a stone.Where there was something and suddenly isn’t,
an absence shouts, celebrates, leaves a space.
I begin again with the smallest numbers.Quick dance, shuffle of losses and leaves,
only the things I didn’t do
crackle after the blazing dies.
MARGINALIA
I promised myself I would do better. If there’s a promise to keep this year, it would be this. Also, maybe: to love myself more, which is something all of us should do, really. To love the self, because one hardly ever does that, too busy looking for someone to love, too intent on finding someone who would finally love you. Also, maybe: to have faith, even if I’m not religious. Also, maybe: to be brave, because I’ve become so scared of so many things, I think.
Also, definitely: to make time for art, to read more, to write more.
Happy new year.
KEEP READING
SHARED WITH GRATITUDE
This poem appeared in Words Under Words: Selected Poems by Naomi Shihab Nye, published by Far Corner Books, 1995. (Available on: Amazon • Bookshop)
DESCRIPTION
“
” (Source)
ABOUT NAOMI SHIHAB NYE
Naomi Shihab Nye was born on March 12, 1952, in St. Louis to a Palestinian father and an American mother. Nye is the author of numerous poetry collections, including Grace Notes: Poems about Family (Greenwillow Bookss, 2024); Cast Away: Poems for Our Time (Greenwillow Books, 2020); The Tiny Journalist (BOA Editions, Ltd., 2019); Voices in the Air: Poems for Listeners (Greenwillow Books, 2018); Transfer (BOA Editions, Ltd., 2011); You and Yours (BOA Editions, Ltd., 2005) and 19 Varieties… (more)
Read more poems by Naomi Shihab Nye • Find books by this poet on Amazon • Bookshop • Or view my library
ENDNOTES
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piathabia
Lovely post. Too often we forget that we are our own sources.
sillysili
“So much of any year is flammable,
lists of vegetables, partial poems.
Orange swirling flame of days,
so little is a stone.”
^THIS. So beautiful. Thanks for sharing. 😀
cess
Happy new year, T.
Keet
This poem hits where it hurts. Ugh.
(Also, happy new year!)
The Bedside Poet
Happy New Year. Good things are coming.. Have faith, be brave, and read, read, read =)
Serena
this is a beautiful post matched with a beautiful poem
also shed a tear or few by then end of it