At The End

Branches shrouded in early morning mist

Living trees are ghosts

I see them through my window

How does life return 

to their branches

after Winter's embrace?

New Year's Eve

As the hands move across the face

will they cover the eyes

or look at the passing of time

Ask the Darkness

Burning through the night

Flames on the horizon

You ask the darkness

what next

as it slinks away

until tomorrow

 Is it a fire or the dawn?

Snow Day

Untouched

the snow rests

covering everything

within sight

It's warm in here

though 

I still wear 

a sweater

Coffee is ready

and so am I

Collector

Collecting pieces of the present

for future use

Playing it safe for then

I cannot hoard these moments

Trying all the same 

I catch your smile

with my eyes

and let my heart 

hold it close

and closer 

still

The Morning After the News

When the world changes

fundamentally so

we must clear a path

for it within ourselves

Welcome the hardship

the burden that is placed

in our hands

We will not see it

as the gift it is

until at last

the lesson lives 

deeply within

Strange Friend

The loneliness changes

but persists.

It does not mean to harm.

From the corners of my eyes

I can feel it near.

Time to time

I let it approach

and accept its chilly embrace.

My strange friend

shuttling me through the days

and nights.

How steady the company.

An unexpected need

to push through 

all the years.

Spheres

Tree fingers emerging from the night

Dark blue horizon

Ungulate footsteps moving cautiously

A front door opens

A man emerges

taking in a cold morning breath

The newspaper rests 

at the side of the car.

Warmth of home.

How vast the world.

How universal our concerns

as we live sphere within sphere.