The after Christmas gloomies grab
my grin and turn it upside down
like sleep and dreams
all jumbled chaotic and dismal.
I roam the night in search of me
The me I lost when winter cloaked
the sun and snuffed the stars
with gray and grumbling billows.
Signpost fade in within
the misted mural of this term
This sentence I concede to serve
Each January.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem