For the New Year – a poem by Steve Broidy

For the New Year

   A Rosh Hashana reflection

Comes the reckoning:
Who shall live, and who
shall die. Now, as the finest of
Fall days fade, as our steps
shatter leaves into dust, and the
chaff of woods and lawns
let loose attar of toast,
the nose of ancient blood-red
wine; now let us toast
the year to come. May we
be among those who live
to the ripeness of age.

Now, as the bean fields deepen from
gold to plum; as legions of
corn—old soldiers proud
and wizened, guns slung
low on their hips—go marching,
marching to harvest; may our steps
be light, may we dance yet again
to the thrill of that still, small voice,
the voice the corn heeds on its march;
the voice raising sweet sweat of
woods and lawns as they fling off
their worn summer clothing;
the voice that paces their steps,
and ours.

Steve Broidy is Emeritus Professor of Education at Wittenberg University. He is editor and contributor to From the Tower: Poetry in Honor of Conrad Balliet (Main Street Rag Publishing Co. 2016), and has published in The Midwest Quarterly, Dark Matter, The Resurrectionist, and Allegro Poetry Magazine.

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