Winter Tree

“Enjoying the sun?” “Yes sir, I am.” Moments before I saw a barren tree adorned with a single star, atop the otherwise barren branches. There I sat, a calm day, a reason to rest and Christmas as it were blazing devoid of any other ornamentation. We spoil ourselves with decorations, tinsel and lights and then one way up high as though the others weren’t enough. “Enjoying the sun?” You bet I am. Today it’s all I got. ƒ

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Ice Chimes

Ever notice? Wind chimes beneath the eaves resemble icicles on this winter day. In a burst of enthusiasm, you know, artistic fervor and all that I went and took a whack at the icicles, thinking they might yield a version of aeolian harp, albeit frozen and sound like wind chimes. Just my luck. They merely shattered. Curses, foiled again. ƒ

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SAD

I’m sad because you don’t love me. You’re cold and grey and barren toward me. All the emotions you lavished have gone. I’m afraid to take a single step for fear I’ll slip and fall lower still in your estimation. When will it end? This cruel resignation? Seasonal affective disorder notwithstanding, without you Spring offers no happy ending. ♥

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Tears of Winter

I gave you everything and now you treat me this way? I made every warmth a treasure. I intensified your pleasure in candle’s glow and firelight, made every hug more snug; hot coffee, hot cocoa, hot tea and this is what you think of me? The first drop of melted snow glistening down your window and now you’re glad I’m gone? I never thought you could be so cold, so bitter to one who made you shiver with delight. How could you? Adieu until I return, adieu. ♥

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Spring

I stepped outside to do a foolish thing, to take a gas fed lantern out into the snow, to see the golden glow upon the field of perfect white, to hear the hiss before the dawn, to feel the days of camping, farming and reliance when out there in the yet quite night I heard birds singing, not a few on barren branches and a flock of something else above the clouds and I realized Spring had come and what I foolishly thought to do was not foolishness at all. ƒ

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Optimum

I who have seen so much beauty saw it again today.   I who have seen candlelight reflected on supple flesh and talismans of sequins glimmering where no light shines by day.   I who have seen youth and agility and craving satisfied saw today the sum total of what it takes to be alive. An old woman pushing a walker through snowy streets, giving her all to a walk she might otherwise avoided, a testament to human tenacity and determination. I who have seen so much beauty saw it again today. ƒ

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Baptism

It’s been a pleasure. every hour every day every week every month of every year every decade every pain I’ve ever suffered every loss and every hope dashed to pieces on the rocks I didn’t see or chose to try despite the charts, it’s been a profound honor. I am privileged to have served and with your permission volunteer for any further assignment you may choose to give. All the way. ƒ

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Once

You get it once. Yeah, that’s right, once. Not twice or any multiple of prime or whole numbers. Forget eternity. Leave all that eon stuff to dinosaurs. You get it once. Give it to me. I’ll give you some of mine. ƒ

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Snow

We are forgiven. Sometimes softly as now. Other times fast and furious, contradictory through the air swirling colliding eager and precipitous, forgiven nonetheless. Once fallen fresh upon fresh others may leave their imprint of sinfulness. ƒ

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Waving at the Scarecrow

Every year about this time we dream a little dream and put a scarecrow in our yard, a friendly fool who doesn’t scare anyone at all. Not even crows. I hear them laughing now high up in the trees. It’s made for fun at Halloween when all the real ghouls and goblins emerge to walk upright upon the earth and people like our scarecrow, because it isn’t scary. That’s the name we give it. Scare is our scarecrow Because it isn’t. I trust you get the humor.   Yesterday two souls walked by, one in charge of the other, two pedestrians upon our sidewalk and one waved at the scarecrow. One did not. The hooded figure with ears plugged into tiny speaker phones connected by wires to a box into which the hooded figure stared did not wave at the scarecrow, had no knowledge of its presence or autumn leaves […]

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