January

January comes, and promises us glory

A whole new year to put right our wrongs

January is a field of nettles

January is an explosion of flame

With no groundwork

On leaving we have only February,

No longer the brightest, the best

The first of all the months

But simply secondary

Resolutions, hopes, forever says January

To me

But then it is gone

And I realise -

It was only a month, after all.