New Year
The years
Fall like dry leaves
From the top-less tree
Of eternity.
Does it matter
That another leaf has fallen?
by Langston Hughes (1901-1967)
I shall be glad to be greeting 2026 with people I love and care for. Of the date prompting me to make a small change or two.
And also mindful of the Black American writer’s question, the stillness and spare beauty in this poem, the vast context in which he sets my tiny life …
His few words speak louder than my many. Thank you for reading ‘Les choses en rose’ in 2025. More reflections next year.
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