Monday, November 03, 2008

Come, January

rescue me from the dying year.
These last days are
hard to use; tainted with
fading light and old sorrows
rotting like leaves in the gutter.
Lucky bears can sleep through
November, December
stretch and wake in February when the light
begins to return and the
violets have bloomed.
I wake in the rainy dark.
Come, January,
fill my windows with
after-solstice light.

Collection available! Knocking from Inside


tumblewords said...

And me, too! Perfect words for this somber grayrain day that has shown nary a speck of real light.

Linda Jacobs said...

I love this one! It's exactly how I was feeling but just couldn't find the perfect words like you did. The image of the bears is delightful!

Stan Ski said...

If only we really could wake to a new start.

Kristina said...

This is pretty much how I was feeling yesterday. I love when poems continue from the title without pause, and you make this flow really well. It's actually rather a dark poem, but beautifully so.