On my desk a photograph of a color pink which banishes one’s urge to snack. The sun breaks through. Motors interrupt our quiet afternoon. I eat peppermint candy canes and think about my grandfather. I want to name things, make lists. Throw things away. The last of the brown sugar, his cans of Dr. Pepper. It is the time of swearing off and to, of pledges and promises and the hope of another new beginning.