January’s no one’s friend
A month that lingers without end
No end to winter’s deepest chill
Which steals the breath and makes us ill
No end to counting every dime
From letting go at Christmastime
To resolutions boldly made
Then just as quietly betrayed
No reason to buy a bouquet
No fireworks
No Mother’s Day
At New Year’s we all raise a glass
Bemused by how the months soon pass
Then wake the next day full of dread
In fear of that which lay ahead
Mr Ormsby At Large 