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LAce Posted Monday, January 12th, 2009
101 Words
Lorraine Berry

Gibbous moon wrapped in a gossamer cloud.

Chill air moves across my skin leaving its calling card of gooseflesh.

Nights are darkly long now, the day abandons northern climes for the warmer south.

Birch trees splay bony white fingers against the black. Without their leaves, they are vulnerable to ice and snow.

I search the sky for the Pleiades, Orion, and reorient myself to a winter sky.

Breath condenses at 45 degrees. I send up an offering of mist in frozen air, thankful for this chance to be a part of the whole.

Awe the gift tonight.

Me the humble acolyte.

Comments [post a comment]

Posted by Donia Carey on Tuesday, January 13th, 2009 at 11:45 AM
Gorgeous images. thanks.

Posted by Donna Levy [ donnachka@cox.net ] on Wednesday, January 14th, 2009 at 11:27 AM
Beautifully done. I was right there with you. With gratitude, Donna



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