Winter’s Song

The snow fell today, and

and silence lifted throughout the streets;

no whistling winds or chilling air

blowing against the breath of my mind.

Just the stillness. This moment.  Here alone

making footprints on the dusting

over cobbled stone/with poet eyes dreaming the sky.

Walking, through the birth of winter night

I think of this freedom to feel and wonder why we search

to heal the past when the present

has embraced the strength that has grown into

our existence.  I wonder about the life that has already been written

and the life awaiting its journal entry upon the process

of thought and I continue to walk.

It is just me and the night.

I watch the tree branches crackle through the shadows

of moonlight

and listen to cars glide through

a harmony of traffic/barely in sight.  The capture

of the stars gleam down on the façade

where lampposts spotlight glimpses

ice stained curbs.  The temperature is barely literate

but it reads me.  It reads my shiver as a residue

of Malbec aromatizes my scented breath

with just a hint of sobriety.

Sometimes it takes a glass of wine and a long walk

in the brisk air to recognize

this romance with society/ as coldness

brings fourth the warmth of the heart and dampness

dries our minds to believe the process of renewal.

The snow fell today, and time hibernated

Inside a pause of a moment.  This moment.  These minutes

of conversing with life /searching and finding

my reason to belong

right in the embrace of Winter’s song.

© 2011

Tarringo T. Vaughan