2008 is consigned to the history books and thrown-away calendars, while 2009, fresh and untainted and heavy with promise as all new years are, is ushered in with much fanfare. there is an absence of feeling save for a tremulous hope that things can and will be better. if hope is the fodder of fools then i am glad to be one. for though it may reside in unknown places, deep within the weeks or months, i should like to think there is a little piece for me.