New Year’s Eve

no call from my parents —

the stars seem to drift

moonlight on snow

as a plow opens a path —

we root for the shine

no sign of the fox —

we imagine it curled up

nose tucked under tail

bitter cold —

we hold our hands open

over the fire

our winter wishes

you turn to ask, will these stick?

… a few flakes of snow

tall trees

turned by the winter wind

into instruments

minus a ladder

we string our lights by flinging —

starshine bridging the gap

unpredicted rain —

in this stack of old Christmas cards

your handwriting

cold, dark and clear

this sky making way for stars —

a memory returns

the shape of my dream —

more elusive as I

try to remember

fingernail moon

keeping us company

on our cold walk home

in this longest night

somehow still hanging on —

dry dead leaves

returning home

for a midwinter visit —

everything seeming small

these long dark nights

perfect for spell casting —

black on black on black

disappearing

along with yesterday’s snow —

front yard bunny’s tracks

the audience stands

you slip your hand into mine —

a tale ends and begins

tucked into burrows

talking about how cold it is —

even the rabbits!

melted snow —

how did I miss the signs

that you had moved on?

Geminid shower —

the spark lingering in her

long after sunrise

bucking horses

and barking dogs —

karma’s messengers

hoping our luck holds —

another night walk

full of stories

head held high

the fox stops to taste the night —

moonlit December

walking home alone

hoping the snow will stick —

I practice your name

last night’s frost

waiting for a chance to shine —

like me, like you

winter walk —

your voice made visible

as you call my name

forced air heat —

even with the lotion

my skin starts to crack

everything changes

at once more and less real

as we speak these words

winter moon —

before the journey,

preparation

the year’s brightest moon

putting it all in focus —

your faith in me

an almost-full moon

lighting up tonight’s frost —

why leave your arms?

all that was left

as the world fell away —

the sound of your voice