January 2023
Author's Note: For January, here’s a little poem reminding us to look at what’s around us.
January light,
zen colored, light of absolute zero,
light of still running mountain streams,
frozen banks rimmed with ice.
New year's bells ring in the thin air.
After the eggnog, the chocolate frosted yule log,
ribbon candy, sugar cookies, January's a plain song:
a glass of cold water, a breath of fresh air.
Outside my window, there are birches in a snowy field,
apple trees on a hill of shale, all the grasses dried
to the color of nothing. At the feeder, there are
mourning doves, chickadees, titmice, their feathery
breasts like clouds just before snow.
©2023 Barbara Crooker
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