I resolve to make no resolution,
to avoid disgrace of failure
when the year's a few weeks old.
Lose weight, keep a clean house,
gossip less, enjoy more — oh, yes,
I yearn for these. Five hundred miles run
a few at at time; piles of worthy books
made mine, internalized; to be a person I admire
when ads on billboards again entreat
a list of goals — buy here, use this...
Yes, I'll tackle these, my heart's desire,
but just for now, only today,
repeated day by day
as calendar pages expire.
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