December 10

comments 7

And here we are, snow come
and melted, the same cool

gray as ever. This damp
feels like the smell of home

after a time away, familiar
become new, for just a moment,

novel, known. And here
we are, the year dwindling,

eternal northern nights.
Breath like a cloud. It isn’t

sadness yet, but something
more rare. We had a true

blizzard once, trees felled
by ice. Numbering the days:

what was, what will. Turning
in early. Silent night.


  1. As ever, a beautiful quality of quietness, in which ‘breath like a cloud’ felt almost like a newly minted observation. And exhale. 🙂

    No snow yet in the U.K. but plenty of sparkling frost. Yeah. We um, talk about the weather. A lot. ~ P ~


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