The Old Year
Is at the station
Waiting for the train,
A one-way ticket
In his hand—
He won’t be back again.
Where is he heading?
No one knows.
Some place faraway,
His luggage packed
With memories
Of each and every day.
Happy memories,
Sad ones, too—
The whistle blows, and then,
He climbs aboard
As the brand New Year
Steps, wondering, from the train.