2019 | "A Christmas Carol"

As I traipse through December's crunchy dusk
my sleepy singing drifts to the ground
to be covered by frosty footprints.

Missing June's grass and rain and breeze
I follow the trails of my breath
from streetlight to shadow
as my attention dissolves into memory.

Snow on snow and boot on stone
I am attended by the presence
of Christmases past
of faces I'm still forgetting,
wondering at specters and spirits.

Still Advent thrums,
drums me back to now
with good news in the cold:
He is born
He is my prayer
He is our becoming aware.