|© Ginny Brannan 2016|
The gelid crystals slip slowly down
to coat the tattered shrouds
of yesterday’s snowfall,
too fast now soiled on frozen ground
The crisp night air calls my name—
I inhale like an addict needing a fix
and exhale the staleness and weight of this day.
December is darkness;
January still holds sway to a darker day
her light always just below the horizon,
but February, February brings shift and promise…
I am February’s child—
no stranger to adversity
ever gleaning strength in
the luster of her lengthening days,
holding on to renewal and hope
that scopes more sharply now,
to bring clarity and truth to
this ever-aging line of sight.
Yes, I am February’s child,
ever-reaching for the light.
© Ginny Brannan 2016