The luminous ball glows almost 400 feet up
Cameras soar in the misty, winter air
spectators from above
A crowd of 300,000 gather
for these final seconds of 2008
A pick pocket’s heaven

...10...9...8...

Road are blocked off
Awaiting the countless strips of tissue paper
to slowly pelt their faces,
families huddle,
necks ache
from gazing up

...7...6...5...

Bands from 3 different decades
roar on the speakers
Faces are individually unique like fingerprints
White, brown, yellow skins
Lips, ears, and noses are pierced asymmetrically
War scars tell tales of brutality
Eyes are wide, slanted,
bright as the faces of children on Christmas morning,
dark as the depths of space
Ears buzz at the sound of foreign tongue

...4...3...2...

The area is a chess match
5-year olds sit atop shoulders
acting as pawns, knights, rooks, and bishops
Their parents’ feet shuffle along the street, the board

...1...

Why? I ask myself
Why must these 300,000 people gather to see a glowing ball?
Why must they promise to change for the better?
Why must they celebrate these final 10 seconds,
that separate two chapters of this novel called “life”?

For it is simply a turn of the page to the next chapter.