December

In heartless December,
Snow fell like a fog from heaven,
Full of resignation.

Warm air gave in to cold;
Weather was turning;
The year crept beneath.

Flakes and frozen moments
Accumulated their lifeless hours
In a towering drift of forever.

Snow melted till the thaw’s river,
Little warmer than the chill roads
Of winter, froze to ice again.

In the clearing sky before frost-fall
The fading year lifted motionless stars
Over dark and lengthening days.

Fanfares on the stroke of midnight
Heralded the future, as if what mattered
Was to drown one last minute
With our celebration and our sorrows.

Snow once more, bleached like bone
Fell from heavy cloud in a blackened sky;
Of such contradictions are promises born.

Tomorrow, like its weather, came as a cloud
On the horizon, clearing or lowering,
Driven down by the unseen wind.

Today, the present was a narrow moment
Where realisation solidified and the past
Was a stone cinder chiselled from memory.

Snow went on falling…

December melted the year…

Our hard-worn paths disappeared
Until random footsteps on the trackless white
Picked out the way ahead.

© BH, 2018

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For various reasons, December was heartless. Maybe the more so when the street party rushed over us all like an invention.

Of course, it’s a time of transition and change. Perihelion is upon us, not long after the solstice. The year dies on its feet and, for a while, you wait for the signs that tomorrow is coming nonetheless.