Tuesday, December 20, 2011


Photo by S. Auberle


This morning there were twenty waxwings
in the rowan tree outside my writing room.
The tree's berries are bright
red     cheerful.
Yesterday they danced in snowy gowns
while the wind swirled off the lake.
Today each berry hangs quietly, waiting
to be consumed by hungry birds.

Darkness by four o'clock now
and the ever-shortening days whirl past.
We cook comfort dishes--beef stew,
garlic potatoes, bake chewy, dark bread.
There will be wine--red, like berries
and we'll be busy as the birds
storing up food and warmth
while the earth turns toward darkness, but still
finding time to be of good cheer,
savor the meat, the salt and the bread,
dance another of our days away.

Something there is
that says you must know:
we were here...
and oh, how we loved.

yes, back on line again...at last!  Still not sure how this new computer works, but at least I can post this...an old poem from "Crow Ink."  Wishing you all a warm and blessed Solstice...


Blogger Last Call Poet said...

Glad you have a new computer.
Lovely poem, fits my mood exquisitely.
Be well, both of you.

9:58 PM  
Blogger Sharon Auberle said...

thanks, Mike, and warmest Christmas wishes to you...

10:37 AM  

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