New Years Eve: New Hampshire

 It has taken me most of this past month to be able to string words and lines together into poetry again.  Most of what I've written since the fire has been in the form of journaling--either on this blog or in my free-form hand written morning pages.  It was like returning home after a long and difficult journey to write a poem again.  Pretty much first draft, and for that I apologize.  Perhaps a revision will be in all of our futures.

My best wishes to you all for a happy, healthy New Year.

New Years Eve: New Hampshire

We flick on inside lights,
sit blinking in the harsh
reminder of time and artifice
as if we crossed
some invisible barrier. On one side
declared: this is day;
the other night.  How can we
believe in earth's slow celestial spin
when the chair is hard,
solid, the floor always unchanged
and unchanging beneath our tentative steps. Outside
dusk blurs the air. Snow
powders into silence.
We lower the shades, turn
searching gazes towards the hearth
as if nothing beyond these blind
windows mattered.