Thru a frosted window view,
an apparition I know.
“2024, is that you?”
With dubious gifts to bestow?
Are you
Chaos or a Bore?
You will
keep us all guessing.
In this
yearly riddle ’24.
Could I
receive a blessing?
Where is
fickle ’23?
The Fates
gave me the year.
Overall,
they let me be.
Wasn’t
that queer!
As time
moves forward:
My memory
hosts the past.
My dreams
are numbered.
2024, “The
die is cast.”
©TPuma/123123
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