Secret Ingredients
Winter
the low midday sun
shadows of geese noiselessly
passing overhead
–
dancing water
a clingy black shift
of morning ice
Grief
frantically rushing
worried that I’ll be late for
my disappointment
–
winter’s breath
making the trek
to an empty woodbin
Passing
the hours before dawn
weaving my way back home through
the thinnest of light
–
gently becoming
as one with
the winter sky
| S | M | T | W | T | F | S |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | 2 | |||||
| 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |
| 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 |
| 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 |
| 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 |