There is no use pretending that the new year is a jot different from the old, save we add a '25' at the end. Never mind the fireworks, the back-slapping, kisses and firm resolutions, the day after the last day of December is exactly the same, a continuance of the human condition without respite.

I don't need to glance again at the daily news for confirmation, for the perfidy of the species will continue unabated. Even now, there are multiple sirens on the highway, a sign that drivers remain careless and impervious to change.

Of course, we experience days in quite different ways, depending on our outlook and what is going right or wrong. Nobody desires suffering and affliction, though most don't feel the need to crash their cars into innocent people just because they hurt. Some, of course, do.

Days

What are days for?

Days are where we live,

They come , they wake us

Time and time over,

They are to be happy in:

Where can we live but days?

Ah, solving that question

Brings the priest and the doctor

In their long coats

Running over the fields

Philip Larkin