We woke up early in the morning
that December 18th,
drove out to Hatter's Field to
welcome in the sun's arrival.
The ice was thick over our windshield,
bunching branches and our hope.
Against the atmosphere our lips blew
shapes onto transparent canvas;
we couldn't form a word.
Seven weeks we danced around
the cloud that took our breath.
Your whiskers snared in sunlight
as we watched colors crescendo,
my eyes lay swimming in the
sea of white beneath our feet.
Frigid highs met frigid lies;
we searched for signs in
sliding predawn to keep our
promises warm.
Because I needed to post something.
I saw this on a neon flashing sign of a church I drive by every day:
Epiphany: have you had your awakening?
New year. New opportunities.
No comments:
Post a Comment