A poem about somethin'

On my calendar

there is a day marked
'starting over.'
I feel like myself again.
I am sitting inside of
my warm cocoon,
listening to the croon
of a Southern woman,
she sings about
wanting somethin’.
I sigh,
watching the needle
as it gently caresses
the grooves like the hands of a
lover,
and think about wanting
somethin’ of my own.