It is a maritime tradition that whoever has watch on New Year’s Eve fill out the night’s logbook entry in rhyme. In that same vein, here is a rhyming re-cap of the final moments of 2006:
Clouded moonlight casts an eerie glow
and the clock on the wall is a few minutes slow,
calling to mind a fifteenth-century poet in translation
whose words are apropos of 21st-century revelation:
he said, “What is close is most uncertain,”
like what could possibly be hidden behind next year’s curtain.
Champagne pops at five past midnight–
A tad late perhaps…maybe next year we’ll get it right.
The lighthouse is quiet at the turn of the year
And darkness is darkness everywhere.