Dawn drifts over the ridge
Into the deep grayness of fog.
Reluctantly the sun
Relinquishes the day
As the light moves
From shadow to shade,
Stripping color from prism’d palette
Revealing only gray scale.
In the murky afternoon,
The last frail lamp
And night returns to night.
Succumbing to the weather,
Misery has its own forecast.
her cheeks blushing
as the sky reflects her beauty
old oaks mutter,
dreaming april dreams
warm winters day
scent of damp, leaf mold
the january thaw
from the gray morning cove,
on heron wings
with warm wings and song,
clouds of small sparrows
the bare boned willows
fill their branches
slips into the light
of the morning sky
As the old year slinks away into the night,
I will throw my shoes at its shadow.
Shaking the dusty months from my clothes,
I will wear my cap and shirt inside out
So the old minutes and seconds can’t cling
Like a bad smell.
I will salt the earth where the previous days
Stretched on and on,
Assuring they will not
Follow me into the new year.
When the New Years Eve bonfire is burning,
I will gather the bitter herbs
And walk counter clock wise into the previous moments,
Casting the hated bouquet into the flame
Leaving its acrid taste behind
With the smell of its grief and sorrow.
Only then will I wreath my head with four leaf clovers,
Fill my pockets with new pennies
And my trunks with rabbit’s feet and horseshoes
And walk bravely into the coming year
Head held high and with cheerful optimism
I will greet the new day.
*** It is with a bit of trepidation I enter the new year, but I am putting on a brave face and holding my chin up and saying ‘Happy New Year to us all! May 2017 be a year of goodness and mercy for us all.’
The clouds stand still in the early winter sky
As if a breathless wind held them close
Looking to see if you withdraw your hand
I reach for you and always find you
Red maple leaves scattered across the path
Dried bits of life once vibrant
I search your eyes to see if our love
Has dried to dust
And I always find it
Winters chill settles deep into the landscape
Sharp frost rings the rattling grass
I lean in for protection against the cold
Longing for your warm embrace
And I find it
The day after
is always a day of regret and broken dreams.
The old slights and deep seated resentments surface
to tears and recriminations.
I had thought we would have out grown all this-
but apparently it is our karma
throughout our lifetimes together.
May you and yours be safe and warm this Christmas Day.
Dear friends, I wish you blessings of the season. K
A whirling galaxy of starlings
at sunset on Christmas Eve.
Star – lings (a bright and shining name for such a dark and dusky bird)
A murmurration of stars
sweeping the darkling night,
making a moving path
for the Milky Way.
Check this video out — amazing starlings murmuration (full HD) -www.keepturningleft.co.uk http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eakKfY5aHmY&feature=share via