Well, it's that time of year again. The time of year when I sit back and ruminate and come to the same conclusion that I did this time last year: I don' wanna grow up!

Yep, it's New Year's. It's now 2003. This may not mean much to you, but it sure does to me! I'm in the class of 2004. That means that after this year, I've only got one more year to be a kid! That is a very depressing thought! Where did the years go?

Well, if I continue in this vein, I'll depress myself, so let's talk about something else.

I want to drink the moon down,
It tastes like a handfull of snow
In a mitten, packed solid and molded
Into the sphere I know.
I want to drink the moon down,
Then have a moonball fight
To sprinkle the pavement with whiteness
Like the stars on a winter night.



The morning dust blue
The frost turns a field
To tones of sage
And only the Sage makes sense of this--
That gold and white make green.


I cannot write a poem.
I wish to fill it with all beauty,
Never content unless it tell everything.
How strange, then,
That I should be happy
In a pretty little courtyard,
Enclosed in its small lovliness,
And I find perfect joy
In a glass of cool well-water.