The Week of Staring into Space

The week between tinsel
and fireworks, where time is
suspended and all things
seem possible

There is no date,
there is no time,
there are only leftovers
in the fridge of memories

Blank diaries appear,
fresh pens fully inked,
and once again we commit
to the things that we will
never do

Except maybe this time
we might rise,
we might take the fire
of transformation
and write a different story.

© Tanya Southey