Dec 5, 2020

Short days and long nights.


Shivering on the north bank,

Putah Creek rolls on under my reflection.

The creek moves along

But my reflection remains still.

A cold winter morning in Winters, California.



The onset of winter. Short days and long nights.

Tired from looking at too many words

I finally rise from the desk and go outside

To see some sky. The moon is hiding

Halfway in his house, but half can be seen.

The sky holds a few clouds

Like an old man holding on to old regrets.

I close my eyes. Cool air on my face.

There are days when all I do is work on poems.


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