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.
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