December 31st

By Richard Hoffman

All my undone actions wander

naked across the calendar,

a band of skinny hunter-gatherers,

blown snow scattered here and there,

stumbling toward a future

folded in the New Year I secure

with a pushpin: January’s picture

a painting from the 17th century,

a still life: Skull and mirror,

spilled coin purse and a flower.

Comments : Three days too late posting this poem, but what the heck. Better late than never. Loved the imagery in it , though I'm not quite sure I deciphered the last few lines correctly. - Zen