New year.

New month.

New President.

New First Lady.

New policies.

New procedures.

New challenges.

New solutions.





And yet…

“There is no new thing under the sun.” [Ecclesiastes 1:9]

Ain’t that the truth.

Thus the saying: history repeats itself.

We live in interesting times.

“Things are not always what they seem; the first appearance deceives many; the intelligence of a few perceives what has been carefully hidden.” [Phaedrus]

And so it goes.

And has gone since 400 B.C. (or whenever the Athenian wrote that).

Good to know, good to know.

Ain’t life grand.

A magical mystery tour, for sure.

Que sera, sera.

The future’s not ours to see.

As Jay Livingston wrote.

And Doris Day sang.

What will be, will be.

It is what it is.


Who knows.


Might as well try predicting the weather.

Nature can be so contrary.

Snow and sleet.


Seventy degrees.

Sun shining.

Windy and gray.



In the 30s.

The quince, confused, blooms.

Bulbs emerge, somewhat startled.

Flocks of birds swoop eastward.

Like moths to a flame.

The not-new sun comes up.

Heralding a new day.

With an invitation to start anew.

A gift.

The ultimate offering.

Begin within.

That’s Mason.


Read more poetry!

Renee Walker is a poet, writer, and real estate broker on the Square with her canine assistant, Buster.  


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