Enduring The Dark Season
11/29/92
The sky painted with watercolour brush strokes
Even now at mid-day, in pastel pink and grays
Skeletal trees loom on the far hill
Shrouded in fairytale mists
Standing sentinel to the impending assault
That is coming in the form of winter
I turn my collar to the cold
Cursing that I had not worn a warmer cover
Standing, watching passersby this end of November
The “joy” of Christmas yet to reach their hearts
Four months to go until spring, only four months
To endure the cold, the withdrawn introversion of
This dark season
Turning to go, still in awe at the stark beauty
Leaves blow past, while others hold fast to near naked limbs
I am quiet