New Year

I start the day early with a cup of tea.
A new diary asks I make an affirmation,
while cleaning my teeth.
I have nothing to offer –

Where did this despair come from?
Yesterday I took my son to casualty,
for an x-ray on his fractured ankle,
& today I read a poem about the world,

deep broken fractured –
If I was clever enough
I’d turn my son’s fall, a scream
falling from the flagpole, into a metaphor.

I didn’t witness the fall. 
Not being there –
The family gathering I couldn’t face
& now to this new year, 

the fracture clinic calls with an appointment
& my son’s new moon boot
sits & stares at me disapprovingly 
from the dark recess of the porch. 

Rachel Burns

First published in Ink, Sweat & Tears