Winter Solstice is the Poet’s Holiday–
Maximum darkness
With flat gray skies
During a short, sunless day.
The chasm, at night,
Between dark and light,
Grows bottomless.
Accustomed to their night vision,
The Poets peek
Through the veil
At their glimpse of despair
(for Despair is the finest of poetic feelings)
And bear witness to
The false promise
Of the returning light’s respite.
Tomorrow is new.
We count the days.
My Christmas card list is growing! And I printed some special edition cards for friends who asked. And I framed one for each kid and for the wife and me. Total? 93 made and sent! (I still have 3 for anyone I forgot.) It was a big project. Kept me busy and out of trouble for a couple of weeks.
Brings my total for the year to 385! I promised myself about one year ago today or so that I would make 365 individual pieces of art this year and I did it! I’m very happy about that. Wishing all who read this a safe, healthy, productive holiday season and New Year!
[385]
After all the diuretics and tears,
When I die
Throw me away
Like an old
Wrung out kitchen sponge.
[292]
