
This is January. Here we all are on the cusp of a new year. Catherine Flynn, fellow Inkling, challenged our group to write a poem with “This is January” as a title. I guess you could say the prompt has been in my mind since she posed it, but the words of a poem only appeared on my notebook page today. I took it on as a kind of list poem.
This is January
I open the door
to let the dog out
shiver from the cold.
A quiet hope whispers
in a voice
I recognize.
I keep dreaming
about children playing.
Awake now, I’m still humming.
Amaryllis grows
an inch each day
expectant red blossom.
Carolina wren fusses
calling to me
to be my first new year bird.
Cypress trees are bare, brown.
Their shade is not needed
resting, waiting.
My husband remarks,
”If there was a need
for cypress needles, we’d
be rich.”
We are rich, I think,
to be here
loving and living
each day.
Even in January…
Margaret Simon, draft

Here is how other Inklings answered the prompt:
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Mary Lee @A(nother) Year of Reading
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Molly @Nix the Comfort Zone
Catherine @Reading to the Core






Your poem is beautiful, Margaret, and so full of hope. Thank you and happy new year!
Great ending, Margaret! I enjoyed how you weaved together wonderful January details.
Margaret, your lovely poem is comforting and peaceful, reminding me of the winter days I came to appreciate during covid, and see for their unique beauty and potential to create spring blooms and growth.
Carol Coven Grannick https://www.carolcovengrannick.com
I especially love your ending, Margaret – loving each day even in January. Such gratitude!
This is such a beautiful poem, Margaret!! I love the “I keep dreaming/about children playing” because this time of year the memories of Christmas’ past keeps echoing in my head, along with thinking about what fun we just had with the grandkids! Love your husband’s comment about the cypress needles and how you ended on that lovely note of gratitude and humor! Happy New Year!!!
Margaret, I love how you’ve captured the prosaic moments of a morning and then end with the profound truth of the final stanza. Happy New Year!
This is just lovely, Margaret! You’ve deftly woven together all those small moments into a beautiful and meaningful poem! Well done!
Smiling at the ending with your husband because we share those words only about small twigs falling from just one tree among many! Your ‘gathering’ of January’s beginnings is lovely, Margaret, just those things seen, heard, felt, and with your husband!
This stanza: Amaryllis growsan inch each dayexpectant red blossom
My amarylis is done blooming and I am sad.
You last stanza reminds me how rich we are. I am so thankful for the richness.
This is the best kind of list poem: a turn, another turn, another turn, each requiring a little realignment, a little refocus of attention, each different but all linked. Wealth indeed.
Yep! Even in January. Love that ending. Happy New Year!
“We are rich, I think” — this made me smile so much, Margaret. Thanks for this dose of “quiet hope.”
Love the human richness in the ending of your poem, “to be here/loving and living/each day./Even in January…” thanks Margaret!
Oh, my. I read this beautiful poem yesterday and I don’t see my comment. I want to make sure to say, Happy New Year! I love that you are rich…in children and Carolina wrens and someone who cracks jokes at the cypress needles with you. What a lovely, lovely way to begin 2026.
Such a lovely list!
Margaret, your poem shares the richness of your everyday living. The last stanza sums up your thoughts and the last line acts as the punch line. May 2026 bring you more riches of life as you continue to observe what is around you.
Ah Margaret, this is beautiful. I like how the reader is able to follow along with you in your actions and thoughts. Love your second stanza a quiet hope whispers/ in a voice / I recognize. Your stanzas tie together moments in your life, that are really rich like a tapestry. Wow! Love this and thank you for sharing your LIST and your inspiration! Happy New Year!