Embracing the Dark and the Light on Winter Solstice

Even more than the season’s red and its green,

I love the spare grey of the reeds and the

deep red of the blackberries,

after the frost

dying on the vine;

the prickly brown of seedpod brushes,

the dun of the far fields;

As the wan winter daylight

drops into a brilliant

moon-washed night.

Second solstice without you,

and I feel your touch at my shoulder,

see your face in the sky,

your breath in the mist over the valley;

Pacific tree frog chorus,

hawk hovering over its prey.

Sere winter light,

snow on distant mountains,

blaze of crimson on a stand of maples,

dry silvery boughs on a clump of sedge.

As impossible as it may be,

as time takes you further away from me,

I must learn to find a way forward.


About thislittleplot

Writer, hiker, loafer
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