New Year's Flight

snips and curls of colored paper litter the street
revelers have fled now from the harsh winter cold
seeking the warmth of family and home

one lone figure sits in the airport
writing her resolutions for the coming year
promises she intends to keep

she waits for flight 823, the flight home
disappointment streaking her cheeks in wet trails
that she tries to hide from the woman at the boarding gate

"first call for flight 823, all passengers"
the voice comes over the speakers
rousing her from her melancholy reverie

she gathers her things hurriedly
just wanting to get away from the memories
passing through the tunnel and out of sight

but left behind as she passes into the darkness
a single slip of paper
flutters to the floor to be swept away

upon it, her resolutions for the coming year:
"I will quit smoking, lose 15 pounds, exercise more
and seek the soft touch of my husband one more time."