Winter Trail

Late afternoon slides into early evening along a frost winter trail. The air turns colder as the sun sets, and I head for the warmth of hearth and hot cocoa.

I wanted to ring in the first post of this winter season with a picture and poem.

winter trail

winter trail

    December Night
    by W. S. Merwin

    The cold slope is standing in darkness
    But the south of the trees is dry to the touch

    The heavy limbs climb into the moonlight bearing feathers
    I came to watch these
    White plants older at night
    The oldest
    Come first to the ruins

    And I hear magpies kept awake by the moon
    The water flows through its
    Own fingers without end

    Tonight once more
    I find a single prayer and it is not for men

Enjoy your December night.

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