Tickertape, the entire sky is a New Year’s prom—
Streamers ripple, pour:
cars, floats, crowds waving
grey-speckled from news reels.
Here’s a war time ceremony preceding
the main feature. Here is intermission,
a pause between acts…
Now real life resumes, paper to be filled.
Thread after thread, it’s a delicate balance,
an arachnid dangling to plunge
like Amelia Earhart.