A frigid February night,
the moon resplendent in its fulgor,
while a prevailing bristled cold wind
dashes across my dry face,
I inhale the cold, brittle air:
nitrogen, oxygen, argon, carbon dioxide,
whistle through my lips,
like a trice ballet, it delivers life into my lungs
hoarfrost, as huellas are left behind,
in remembrance of its path.
At night I feel at ease,
beyond what
an aubade can offer.
Gazing up into the dark abyss,
I am overwhelmed by the
union of neighbors that float above me
in sync with the moon:
Mercury, Venus, Saturn, Mars, Jupiter,
and the assemblage of mythological
Greek god’s only visible before dawn,
watch me, observing my every move.
Winds encircle the night,
disrupting the stillness of
the undressed oak trees,
their branches swaying back and forth
as to wave hello, or is it a goodbye?
Winterberry hollies dance at their feet,
untouched snow glistens,
and mirrors the dazzling assembly of stars.
Within the woodland, mysterious sounds
echo through the silent, cold:
a cackle, a flutter, yipping creepy sound,
nature’s orchestra coming at me
from all directions,
cautiously listening, as I attempt
to decipher the resonances.
I exhale.
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 1:01 PM UTC
A frigid February night,
the moon resplendent in its fulgor,
while a prevailing bristled cold wind
dashes across my dry face,
I inhale the cold, brittle air:
nitrogen, oxygen, argon, carbon dioxide,
whistle through my lips,
like a trice ballet, it delivers life into my lungs
hoarfrost, as huellas are left behind,
in remembrance of its path.
At night I feel at ease,
beyond what
an aubade can offer.
Gazing up into the dark abyss,
I am overwhelmed by the
union of neighbors that float above me
in sync with the moon:
Mercury, Venus, Saturn, Mars, Jupiter,
and the assemblage of mythological
Greek god’s only visible before dawn,
watch me, observing my every move.
Winds encircle the night,
disrupting the stillness of
the undressed oak trees,
their branches swaying back and forth
as to wave hello, or is it a goodbye?
Winterberry hollies dance at their feet,
untouched snow glistens,
and mirrors the dazzling assembly of stars.
Within the woodland, mysterious sounds
echo through the silent, cold:
a cackle, a flutter, yipping creepy sound,
nature’s orchestra coming at me
from all directions,
cautiously listening, as I attempt
to decipher the resonances.
I exhale.
