Just like the recent change of the emerald favorite to the bitter taste of coffee,
the battering gale force winds hammering on the door,
as it screeches to be let in, as it wails of its sorrow.
Reminiscent of the innate excitement of the jiggle of bells,
and half eaten carrots and an emptied glass of whiskey
the passing of casserole dishes full to the brim to borrow.
Knocks on the door loud and swift
kettle boiling and the offering of chocolate sweets all wrapped up in their shiny rainbow wrappings,
Nothing but good wishes and hope for the New Year.
But, what of last years resolutions?
The faded floral wallpaper  is still peeling, and cuts that wounded just down to the marrow have not healed.
A ****** bandaged seeping fear.
Change you arrive when planned or as unexpected as the snow in Summer.
You tap on our windows,or you blast through the panes like dynamite
Exploding.Damaging. Injuring.
In a split second you find yourself cracking open a rounded blue tin
to discover a surprise,a green coffee sweet
for better or for worse  in this small little ways the world changing.
Changing.