December's Color

If I could interpret the influence of winter It would be blindly silent and dramatically loud With wailing seas of white wonder- Feverishly blowing sideways into the night Crystallized droplets of frozen blue tears Hanging dangerously waiting for that moment – To fall into the arms of a cloud puff of snow Like twinkling diamonds posing gracefully off the roofs- And the buildings of our human comforts Until the kiss of the daytime sun slowly softens its sharp edges And so dancing drops of watery icicles plunk into small puddles below Until the night falls and they stretch and- Reform their clinging weapons of new splendor Stillness embraces with cold arms of unforgiving favor In the quiet frozen fields of the morning, hope springs a bird whistling A few scattered old leaves never buried under winter fly free Now onward to the days end we sweep Sleep now, we sleep into the days of December’s mask With blankets of wool and fires of warmth around our toes As we drift off nestled in our beds, We can’t image our existence without refuge Another log is crackling and burning in the fireplace.