An Hour in Winter

Jan Richardson adventdoor.com

Jan Richardson adventdoor.com

There is an hour
when the December sea
turns turquoise once again
beneath the blazing sun
in the crystal air

The hour is born
out of the womb of fog
pregnant with January pain
that gray winter woman
heaving with cold

Hear her scream
Within her swollen belly
lies the now sleeping seed
a sprouting March bean
the wrinkled leaf

“You show me the path of life.
In your presence there is fullness of joy;
in your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” ~ Psalm 16:11

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About Peter Notehelfer

I'm a retired people person who now finds the time to watch the little details of the world without worrying about being watched by anyone . . . I live on an Island north of Seattle with my wife named Ellen, a yellow dog named McGee, a yellow cat named Gatzby, and four fine chickens . . . I read fiction, bake bread, smoke salmon, and fish whenever the weather allows . . . Oh, and yes, I try to write a poem every day simply to avoid senility!
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2 Responses to An Hour in Winter

  1. SalvaVenia says:

    Promising life …

    Liked by 1 person

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