The Old Year

new year poem
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2015 is wearing thin:
Like a rag scraping
Across the kitchen floor
One last row of stitching left
Grey with grime and grease.

The old year’s like a horrible old woman creeping
To the edge of a windowsill,
Bag-of-bones-body; one big crease.
A sniffling hag; incarnation of our crimes
So many atrocities! No wonder
She is crawling towards the edge
To leap off to her death.
It’s wonderful like a wood full of icicles
Together they make an airy tinkling sound,
Each one reflecting the light; spiny mirrors
Showing inner thoughts long buried underground.
New friends, new food,
To home, to home for ages I have not been.
My eyes have never seen these sights
And perchance maybe never will again.

All our woes behind us; a clean page in front
Soon the present will be nothing more
Than another past year
A year tired and retired
To the fading vaults of our memories;
A dying coal.
The tears I cried from this old year
Will be no more.


more by Lëaf Ednïwinga

photograph by Alex Harvey


Image Curve’s Manifesto

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Lëaf Ednïwinga

Artist, dreamer, coffee addict, vagabond traveler and world's most creative adrenaline junkie. I'm in love with poetry & dream to spend my days writing Steampunk fantasy, drinking tea & drawing what butterfly wings look like under a microscope. I have always been most drawn to writing about legends, whether that's retelling them or completely re-imagining them, because there is so much mystery and potential there. I believe that the most inspiration comes from our darkest days, not the ones where we are happiest, because if we are happy, we don't have much to write about. A few years ago, I spent over 9 months in Karaganda, Kazakhstan where I taught EFL during the day and wrote poetry by night. During that time I was at a really fragile point in my life, so writing was really my only escape. I wrote over 200 poems during my time there, which sparked my love of the genre. I don't follow any particular type of poetry or rules, I just write what feels right, sometimes all rhyming, sometimes only partially or internally rhyming, and sometimes not rhyming at all. Besides reading other authors' poetry, I am most inspired by Hans Christian Andersen's and Grimm's Fairytales, and well-written modern fantasies. I like a style that is reminiscent of Tolkien as well as fantasies that borrow a lot of material from preexisting fairy tales, folk legends and mythology. My writing strengths, as told to me by those who have read my work, are a great talent for visual description, especially in my poetry, for example, putting words together that conjure up vivid imagery in people's minds. I like to call that "word-art." I write about people's emotions, I describe feelings that they know very well but can't put into words, and that is why my writing is personal and easy to identify with. One by one, the poems come down From their flight on high Like so many wild, winging birds And alight on my paper, mine at last. To get chapters of my NEW Fantasy series Raven delivered to your inbox every Friday, visit Raven's webpage & enter your email address in the form! Besides weekly chapter of Raven you'll also get: ~Exclusive Freebies, giveaways, discounts, gift cards, prizes, special offer, event tickets, and more!

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1 Response

  1. michelle morlan says:

    Wow, what a description. I love this!

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