Thursday, January 02, 2014

A new year

As much as I complain
About the bitter cold of winter
Of the layers
The heaviness 
Of winter

The snow falling is a perfect time. 
There is a peace
A remarkable silence
Clandestine hush
Room to think

And the sound of a shovel
Hard against the ground
Is one of my most comforting sounds

When it's night
Is when all of this is most perfect
And fleeting
Unless you can wake with
The secret continued
The hush and perfection
Still intact


And then they're was the day I almost died by a giant speeding snow plow...

To be continue...