lines in snow

I'm watching wee snow flakes flutter through light to join their kin as white ground cover. It's like an explosion of glitter, around each light source. Strange to seem so separate, when surrounded by light, and wind. Then to be absorbed into a mass instantly, completely.

There is a line or two of poetry tumbling through my head. I think it was Joel Lewis who said it, or wrote it, or murmmered it to some street light in Hoboken….
“I have
that exile’s sense of recreation
& believe rebirth is possible
from the wreck of our common misery
& that songs are clear when sung

by heroes, but not in this epoch. Niggling
winter dreams fueled by the rhythms
of the world’s desire."

It's quiet. That's what happens in a city that doesn't quite believe in snow, at least not in snow coming here. This time of year is almost always bustling with desire. It's nice to hear the quiet.

A Hood for in between...Now and Then

Between the Now and Then

Upon horizon, night to day ~
there between the now and then,
I often pause along the way,
to tiptoe through the moonlit glen ~
or perhaps take in sun's light,
night to day ~ day to night.

Upon horizon, day to day ~
there between the then and now,
as seasons grow along the way,
to crease the face of timely brow ~
or perhaps steal time away,
day to day ~ day to day.

Upon horizon, day to night ~
there between the now and then,
I stand beneath my autumn light,
bereft as memory calls again ~
to pain the heart with bygone sight,
Night to day ~ day to night.

Upon horizon, night to night ~
there between the then and now,
I know that winter casts its sight,
on one last leaf that will not bow ~
to frost within its golden sight,
night to night ~ night to night.

Upon horizon, night to day ~
there between the now and then,
I know my spring will fade away,
and summer's soft remember when
will echo gently autumn's way ~
day to night ~ night to day....
Winter's near ~ Winter's near......

By Hazelmarie Elliott