A crow morning,
full of crow voice
and a soft, round sun over all. 12-4-12
the yellow, the green.
Honeysuckle’s last yawn closing
before her sleep. 12-4-12
Spread across us all—
the thin winter sun.
All the morning twigs touch tips,
gray in gray light. 12-5-12
good for the hollies,
good for me. 12-6-12
Soon they’ll be gone—
all of honeysuckle’s leaves.
Then it really will be winter. 12-6-12
gray and gray
softened by fog. 12-10-12
The white and blue layered sky
sits on the winter wood
like icing on a cake. 12-11-12
Titmouse in the leafless sharon,
two blue jays in the leafless crab apple,
me in the open doorway, breathing winter. 12-11-12
The horizontal cascade of light
passed leaf to leaf along the hollies
rests here, on the table,
with me. 12-13-12
No shadows today.
The sun is soft.
The light comes from everywhere. 12-15-12
A strip of sea green at the horizon,
a strip of cobalt resting on tree tops.
A winter-colored rainbow bringing promise. 12-22-12
The flood of children
through the singing elves
to a courtyard full of first snow.
Shouts of joy. 12-22-12
A waterfall of light pours
from a thin spot in the clouds.
Hollies pass it on,
and all the little pieces spray
like sea foam in a breaking wind. 12-22-12
The old man is gone.
He left me his smile,
his forever smile. 12-22-12
raw winter light
in the raw winter wood.
deep winter clouds. 12-24-12
Light from the ground,
light from the sky
snow light. 12-26-12