Solstice is near and an owl
sees everything that moves.
The deer graze so slowly
through the deep snow.
Coming in my direction.
I do not breathe.
A giant bird flies the path
of a red and white arrow
and crosses the road.
We are thinking of the
twenty children tonight.
A cradle hangs above the trees,
a milky, white, crescent moon
moist with clouds.
I know what I see and I see
the unrocked moon
which I cannot reach
to comfort.
Dec 25, 2012
Dec 25, 2012 at 1:18 PM UTC
Solstice is near and an owl
sees everything that moves.
The deer graze so slowly
through the deep snow.
Coming in my direction.
I do not breathe.
A giant bird flies the path
of a red and white arrow
and crosses the road.
We are thinking of the
twenty children tonight.
A cradle hangs above the trees,
a milky, white, crescent moon
moist with clouds.
I know what I see and I see
the unrocked moon
which I cannot reach
to comfort.
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