poetry

New Year’s Eve after the Marshall Fire

New Year’s Eve after the Marshall Fire

when the only air to breathe
is so cold it burns your lungs
it, too, feeds your cells

in these the days of emergencies
of Plan B or C or D
or abandoning all plans
and surrendering to survival

let us remember
what a gift it is to have cold crystals
descend upon us

what a miracle that waves of fire
and whispers of snow
exist

poetry

endings/beginnings

endings/beginning

that time of the year
when the serpent swallows his tail
and the skin is shed inside out
even the eyes seeing afresh
change is always possible
especially tomorrow