in the nebulous body of a new year…–Adria Badagnani

dreams float around the bottom of cold naked mugs

waiting a wash of fresh cobalt glaze


algorithms try to narrow my world view

as I push outward from this digital burlap bag


I start the first day with a clean kitchen sink and fresh sponge,

scrubbing scuff marks from Christmas eve’s cast iron stew pot


still fragrant with lamb, fennel, and garlic,

I squeeze a lemon, add sea salt, and bring it all to a boil


one tea light burns beyond its plastic holder as a stick

of copal turns to ash on a bed of stale coffee beans


ornaments hang from the tree more like dumbbells

than silver bells, and my daughter builds a nest


under the table for spent figurines from advent calendars

that soon I will roll into storage totes with the hope of return


I take a sip of lukewarm tea, and wonder if time comes out of the clock hot

only to grow cold, each tick the passage of itself


what shades of arctic, cerulean, lapis, azure, indigo into midnight

the past year becomes as edges soft blur like rabbit fur in my mind


the darkest hour turns over violet edges and curls with steam rising,

dawn’s stirring light warms time still steeping in its own momentum


I turn the page on what is becoming an obsolete statement, gaze upon

white tiles of my months filling with the promise of hot tea and high-fired glaze


Adria Badagnani is a ceremonialist, poet, and mother who lives in Nehalem. Her background in music and performance informs her process of writing custom wedding ceremonies, spoken word pieces, and poetry. Her poetry can be found in Windfall: A Poetry of Place, We’Moon 2024, and Hoffman Center’s Word + Image.