We've wandered mony a weary foot, Sin' auld lang syne

The Sandia Mountains are majestic today - this last day of 2010. Clouds have cleared, although it is still cold at about 20 degrees with a windchill that makes it feel much colder. I had lunch with the writer/poet/photographer/activist Margaret Randall today, and her partner Barbara at Flying Star cafe on Central Avenue. She is an amazing woman, and we traded books (my chapbook for her book "My Town.") At the end of the year, we turn - to reflect, to sing, to toast.

Margaret Randall returned to her hometown of Albuquerque when she was 48, after living in New York, Europe, Mexico, Cuba, and Nicaragua. She has been here ever since (and travels frequently). I will be leaving my native Minnesota at age 48 to make Albuquerque my new home town. New Mexico has always felt like my second home.

The old year ends and the new year dawns. I will be in my hotel room, reading poetry for the first time this trip and reflecting on the year. Robert Burns' 1788 Scot's poem is set to the tune of a now familiar folksong:

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of auld lang syne?
And days of auld lang syne, my dear,
And days of auld lang syne.
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days of auld lang syne?

We twa hae run aboot the braes
And pu'd the gowans fine.
We've wandered mony a weary foot,
Sin' auld lang syne.
Sin' auld lang syne, my dear,
Sin' auld lang syne,
We've wandered mony a weary foot,
Sin' auld ang syne.
We twa hae sported i' the burn,
From morning sun till dine,
But seas between us braid hae roared
Sin' auld lang syne.
Sin' auld lang syne, my dear,
Sin' auld lang syne.
But seas between us braid hae roared
Sin' auld lang syne.

And ther's a hand, my trusty friend,
And gie's a hand o' thine;
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.