Archive
12/25/09 - (2)
Memory
With no place to go, to be, no one, in particular, to see, This off-again/on-again-snowy Nativity Friday, I've stayed, gratefully, holed up, away from the cold, Listening to Christmas songs richly recreated By Barbra Streisand and Nat King Cole, Wishing that every anyone could be as content as I.
Never have I felt so close to the lake's soul. The white isolation of its icy silence inspires me, In these hours of sublimely quiet privacy. Even after tonight and I are tomorrow's memory And the snow has been reborn as late-April waves, This memory will be waiting here, to welcome me home.
12/25/09 - (2)
|
|||
|
|||
