Winter is finally here
and various flocks of birds alternately
attack the fermenting berries
left on the moss covered Hawthorne tree.
They drink in the fermenting liquor
of the old tree
– oblivious
to my eyes watching.
Taking flight in pairs or threes,
they fly helter-skelter a short distance away
waiting for another turn
to sip more of their orange wine.
It is a crisp sunny day
and I am wanting you as always…
I hear your breath and feel your warmth.
I bask in the comfort of an old love –
the seasons that have been ours to share
for these many years.
Tomorrow is the solstice…
and then it will be Spring!
-a sacred time of rebirth and hope.
I await you at Wikiup.
(First published 12/4/11)
