Monday, December 29, 2014


some morning outing
when year turned near on end
look toward the sun;
it's softer on your face than plain air.
recall the warmer jacket
with the fluffy, full collar
that waits hung up for winter...
now so near you feel it ready to grab hold
and lay out...long and dark the shadows
so'll feel them in your bones;
those days breaths are sharp
and come in white puffs;
so many you ignore them.