This New Year

This New Year,

crumbs will no longer be enough.

You want whole loaves of joy,

feast of exuberance laid out

on the table of each waiting day.

You want awe for the smallest things—

drop of honey lifted off the plate

with a fingertip, that kiss of summer,

and Ball jars of bone broth left

to cool on the back of the stove,

golden and healing. No resolution

could ever l…