Thursday, December 13, 2012

December 13

Midwinter Nocturne

...Now is the time of contrast and incision.
Sleet hardens, and the smooth crust tolerates
No imprint. Underfoot the fresh snow grates,
Each flake wrought in sharp-faceted precision.
The falls hang frozen in eternity,
Sound sharpens; bright, the winter starscape rises,
And all that summer mingled, crystallizes
Into its unalloyed identity.

The tracery of woven light on dark
Each night more keen; like, gossamer, my breath
Emerging from the air, I hear a voice:
"The paths of hope and terror, life and death,
Divide now. -- And, humanity, your choice?"
…The whispered words like splintered ice are stark.

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