Poem: December 22, 2019

Solstice

Amidst all the rushing
through our holidays,

the deadlines
and destinations

the wine and the noisy
starting and stopping,

it is unlikely
we noted the passing
of the Winter Solstice,

its silence
and its darkness,
its invitation to
peaceful contemplation

of new beginnings,
new definitions,
new paths to new worlds.

But if you had
stepped outside, say,
into the cold night
last night at 10:29,
here in southwest Indiana,

and if the street
had been silent

and if the street lights
and house lights
had not been lit,

you could have
born witness to the first
hopeful moments
in which half our world
tilted in tiny degrees
toward Spring.

And maybe you
would have taken
a cool, deep breath.

And maybe the air
would have tasted clean.