January
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(Image courtesy of wallpapersafari.com)
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Cold and bleak is its curtain.
The holiday festivities are over.
Time to curl up and hibernate until spring beckons
with its golden hand and floral call.
Just two months to wait.
One walk on a frigid, chilly morning,
a white puff escapes from my blushed lips.
The empty trees that border the monotonous walk
gently glimmer gold in the soft surges of sunlight.
The sun has her favorites:
certain trees and blades of grass she places in the foreground,
bathed in her beauty.
The frost picks up her shine,
blinding me with its sparkling reflection
as if to say, "Notice me," "See me,"
among the still stature of a world
in a state of mourning or anticipation.
The month tiptoes past,
consistently compared to its predecessor.
It lingers as long as possible
hoping to show it is worth its 31 days.
Copyright © Sara Etgen-Baker | Year Posted 2024
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