Did you ask the sky
about the coming winter?
The leaves on the trees
seem to believe
that turning early
is the way to go.
Even the birds know.
They’ve made their travel plans.
They’re getting out of here, man;
you can believe it.
How is it going to be?
In that long night,
we are resplendent;
surrounded crystalline.
Never more precious,
that latent survival instinct.
Drain down the heady elixirs
and ready harvest hands
for toil and hardship.
I watch the crows
when the ravens come
and boy;
I have seen unwelcome company before,
but this is a land
of bloody competition
when the ground freezes
and time kills you.
I guess it’s too early
to be thinking about hoarfrost
and the way it grows upon ever surface.
Frost-like diamond jubilee
accoutrements.
Like a wedding song,
expressed in water frozen
from the very air.
The work comes
and then the celebrations.
The memories
are strong in The Season,
so I don’t mourn the Sun,
or any day of sanguine reflection.
The New Year starts
with the dying of the light.
Good-bye, Daylight Savings Time.
Hello twilight hours
that stretch longer
and longer,
until they surpass the day.
What does the sky say
about the coming Winter?
I bet He says
it’s gonna be a cold one.
HG – 2017
