Archive
01/01/10 - (1)
Midnight
Quietude, isolation, serenity, and grass-roots happiness Are the melodious leitmotifs I play over and over, This biting Thursday night — New Year's Eve.
The cabin keeps me wombed in warmth. The lake, flowing, slowly, beneath silence's ice, Is the water that surrounds my gestating imagination.
I join myself late, at my book-cluttered kitchen table. We share a lettuce-tomato-crouton salad, wine, Savor leftover vegetable angel-hair pasta, raspberries, blueberries,
Before I dress, in my coat of many necessary layers, Adjust boots, gloves, neck gaiter, cap, hood, and parka, Then step out, into the clear, windless, zero-degree midnight air,
Just in time to see the five-minute fireworks display (Sponsored by the village's two bars and Lawn Beach Inn) Flying up, from the municipal beach, at the foot of Lake Avenue,
Illuminating the dark auditorium, festive restaurant next door, Its echoing reports and dazzling flashes of phosphorescence Announcing the momentous advent of 2010.
Even after the too-brief tumult recedes into the lingering past, I look up, peering through my breath's diaphanous smoke, Remain focused on the myriad stars, the lunar wafer,
And realize that the sky is attending its own celebration, Marking one more manifestation of its glorious being, Neither ignoring me nor imploring me to record its ubiquity.
I stay longer than my fingers and toes tell me I should, Reluctant to walk back to my cabin Without inviting the full moon to come sleep with me.
01/01/10 - (1)
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