Winter Sun

A pale white sun, yellow, thin and grained played peek a boo games all day slipping in and out skies black and gray that only hinted a scent of rain. The day somehow escaped my efforts exerted staggered between phone calls and mail finds with only brief respite from winter's cold averted that stole the minutes and hours of my time. Bowing at the crust of dusty breezes the pale cream sun rays flow clinging to the last vestiges of winter tease cooled and blanketed by ashen melting snow. Behind its glare climbs the rising moon with little left of light to spare and evening stars begin to swoon. How quick the day as January slides in the new year groove leaving us only Christmas memory ballet of time ever on the move.