December 26

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White world, little distinction
between ground and sky, even

birds won’t brave the coldness.
Yesterday I saw geese fall out

over the shale lake, like lanterns,
gold-bellied, backlit by a setting sun.

The first Christmas without your call.
Today is startling in its stillness,

another thing has come and gone:
Snow coats the road and yards,

the mountains engulfed
by clouds, so what else

can we measure by besides
a sense of gain, or loss?

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7 Comments

  1. Pingback: December 26 | Kate McClelland

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