Tuesday, December 31, 2019
Your rumble rolls over frozen hills,
And tops the icy breakers of the big lake.
Your bleak and burgeoning song rends the snowy morn;
It shouts chaos and whispers promise.
I see you coming, 2020!
Your shadow creeps upon the shore,
An Eastern billow breaking the dawn asunder,
Shattering the wall of the night and the twilight's mist.
You herald sunrise, golden and gaunt and new.
I feel you coming, 2020!
Your building gale presses on my soul;
The rock of my home ripples, waves upon a pond.
I taste the liquor of your wind:
Orange blossoms and brimstone.
I savor the loamy breath of turned earth,
And the precious aroma of Spring’s promise,
Beneath the cold essence of Winter’s cleansing.
I stand upon my hill, arms wide and welcoming;
I await the sweep of your midwinter Mistral.
Change is coming. I sense it in the fiber of my being.
Posted by Mick at 11:16 AM