Tonight's Poet Corner: Sonnet Solstice #173
The New Year by Belinda Roddie The new year is always supposed to be a celebration, as we start anew, but the new year won't mean that much to me, since I will be starting it without you. The arguments began in August, and in September, the accusations flew, so many questions about where we'd been, whom we'd been with, each little rendezvous a threat to us. In November, you left with one suitcase and a short letter. I was left with nothing valuable, bereft of love, of happiness. As days go by, I am exhausted. The new year does not mean much to me as I sit here and rot.