Daylight is Waning

The daylight is waning; the perception of warmth is dying with it

Stalactites seem to hang precariously from the edge of the roof

Their incessant dripping halted for the next few hours of darkness

While the craters in the snow beneath them form crystallized cups

Eager to hold the next day’s catch, liquefied by the sun’s radiance

Snow still covers the ground, now in a dusky yellow-grey color

Mimicking the diluted palate that veils the western edge of the sky

The dark scraggy branches of the trees dissolve into the murkiness above

Soon points of light begin to appear scattered loosely across the heavens

Then filling the void between them countless smaller specks come alive

The night sky glimmers and glitters like snowflakes in the moonlight 

Turning from the front window the flickering candle flames replace the stars

Filling the room with fragrances of pine and cinnamon while whips of smoke dance into the air

Warming the darkening room for a short time…

Sunday morning Out the Front Window

It’s nearly the middle of the morning, brilliant sunshine and pale blue skies have brought on the day. Lost in the morning activities the changes outside catch your eye; it’s time to relax for a few moments and gaze out the front window. The thick blanket of white that covers the front yard is beginning to sink to the contour of the earth.

The grayish planks of the front walk are dry; the tumbled stacks of snow along its edges seem to guard the corridors of passage. Icicles hanging from the eves reflect the sun from their frozen crystal shapes while a constant flow of droplets begin to fall from their sharp tips.

The air is clean, crisp, no longer the harsh stinging cold that revealed your breath hours earlier. The radiance of the sun warms the south facing surfaces while the shadows hold on to the chill of the winter day.

Images of winters long gone by slip silently into your mind. Snow ball fights with your brothers, lopsided snowmen sentinels built with leather mittens, ruddy red cheeks and dripping noses, admonishments for tracking snow across the carpet. The acrid flavor of your coffee momentarily changes to a sweet chocolate taste. The urge to abandon the morning chores and step outside to play grows inside; soon to be subdued by more mature impulses.

Turning from the window you leave the enticements behind with a shrug, in favor of more noble behavior…

December 23rd

The daylight is waning; the perception of warmth is dying with it
Stalactites seem to hang precariously from the edge of the roof
Their incessant dripping halted for the next few hours of darkness
While the craters in the snow beneath them form crystallized cups
Eager to hold the next day’s catch, liquefied by the sun’s radiance
Snow still covers the ground, now in a dusky yellow-grey color
Mimicking the diluted palate that veils the western edges of the sky
The dark scraggy branches of the trees dissolve into the murkiness above
Soon points of light begin to appear scattered loosely across the heavens
Then filling the void between them countless smaller specks come alive
The night sky glimmers and glitters like snowflakes in the moonlight
Turning from the front window the flickering Christmas candles and lights replace the stars
Filling the room with fragrances of pine and cinnamon while tinsel sparkles amidst the needles
Warming the room while foretelling the coming holiday celebration