every year at Christmas
my grandfather’s sister
sends him a box of oranges
from Florida — sometimes
grapefruits, too, which he
prepares for us of a morning
with an expert hand

a life incredible, vivid, excellent.
every year at Christmas
my grandfather’s sister
sends him a box of oranges
from Florida — sometimes
grapefruits, too, which he
prepares for us of a morning
with an expert hand
the TV weatherman
is probably telling us
not to get excited
that winter was one of walking
of stalking the sunset’s glow
to the western road and then
watching the fire fade from the treetops
before shrugging home in the dusk
in winter the trees
show their secrets
shall I tell you about the ephemeral sparkle of light on wood
as each piece of cracked glass in the vase
caught and held the lampgleams for a moment
… But my heart is
Returned to sister winter
But my hands are
As cold as ice …
In much of the Northern Hemisphere the days are growing shorter, colder; the darkness catches us off guard with its earliness. The trees have passed their peak of autumn splendor and now are giving up their withered leaves one by one; the flowers are fading fast; the browning grass is going to sleep until the spring. All nature is making the long descent into winter, to the longest night of the year, but we humans rage against this dying of the light.
Read Morei woke one morn in winter past
the world still hushed and sleeping fast
yesterday morning the newly-fallen flakes
lay large and lacy atop the earlier shroud of snow
when i woke the snow
was once more falling