The winter's night is long and dark,
no longer can I sleep;
the new year's day comes silently,
quiet, cold and deep.

Once I watched it, as a youth,
with crowds of noisy voice;
partied, loved and laughed,
as if I had no choice.

But the parties now are over,
long gone, the boisterous crowd;
the love and laughter, subtle,
soft and gentle, never loud.

I sleep through fireworks,
let the young go on parade;
seek out the morning sun,
much more so than the shade.

The warmth is on my back,
frost melts upon the stalk;
my breath wafts in the air,
on my early morning's walk.