it begins crisper than november,
still, chilly, ice blue sky,
then warm, then cold, then crazy frigid,
wind cat-yowling,
and on the windows,
frost feathers that do not melt all day.
the solstice sun creeps warily
across the south horizon,
glancing brilliant off frost-sheathed trees,
so cold the very air is frozen--
sparkling ice crystals float rainbow colored
like dizziness before my eyes.
Christmas eve starts grey and windy--
rain at two and snow at three--
the huge flakes my mom called "horsebirds".
And just at sunset, a patch of blue,
a sky tunnel for those tiny reindeer.
Christmas morning, four together,
first time in years we all are here:
Best-Beloved, sad eyed lady,
maker of donuts and hi-test coffee,
sings a bit, weeps, smiles;
the Exile returns, hoodied, shy smiling,
coffee in hands, and heart full of plans;
and Carborundum Starshine bursts in the door,
in corduroy & goofy hat,
Paul Bunyan beard & glitter cheeks;
and i
am here.
Talk and cookies, hugs and pictures,
Merry merry, the peace-pipe passed,
carols on the radio,
the scents of spruce and tangerines.
the "week between" a roller coaster,
t-shirts one day, parkas the next,
wind that moans like Marley's ghost,
and snow tornados on the road.
new year's eve and big soft snowflakes,
sparkling lights and laughing shouts--
on the street, drunken kisses and auld lang syne--
but not for me, i listen only;
there's work tomorrow, quick to bed,
a brief flight,
all-night jazz
and sleep.
time tomorrow to begin again.
(1-1-14)
Jan 3, 2014
Jan 3, 2014 at 6:44 PM UTC
it begins crisper than november,
still, chilly, ice blue sky,
then warm, then cold, then crazy frigid,
wind cat-yowling,
and on the windows,
frost feathers that do not melt all day.
the solstice sun creeps warily
across the south horizon,
glancing brilliant off frost-sheathed trees,
so cold the very air is frozen--
sparkling ice crystals float rainbow colored
like dizziness before my eyes.
Christmas eve starts grey and windy--
rain at two and snow at three--
the huge flakes my mom called "horsebirds".
And just at sunset, a patch of blue,
a sky tunnel for those tiny reindeer.
Christmas morning, four together,
first time in years we all are here:
Best-Beloved, sad eyed lady,
maker of donuts and hi-test coffee,
sings a bit, weeps, smiles;
the Exile returns, hoodied, shy smiling,
coffee in hands, and heart full of plans;
and Carborundum Starshine bursts in the door,
in corduroy & goofy hat,
Paul Bunyan beard & glitter cheeks;
and i
am here.
Talk and cookies, hugs and pictures,
Merry merry, the peace-pipe passed,
carols on the radio,
the scents of spruce and tangerines.
the "week between" a roller coaster,
t-shirts one day, parkas the next,
wind that moans like Marley's ghost,
and snow tornados on the road.
new year's eve and big soft snowflakes,
sparkling lights and laughing shouts--
on the street, drunken kisses and auld lang syne--
but not for me, i listen only;
there's work tomorrow, quick to bed,
a brief flight,
all-night jazz
and sleep.
time tomorrow to begin again.
(1-1-14)