In Mid-December (Poem)

this is the time of dormancy, land fallow the sun likewise

trees skeletal against a washed out sky, leaves abandoned seasonal dreams

the wet cold ground their resting place

corvids the most visible birds, except for the clock of the overhead geese

rain becomes snow becomes rain again, the demarcation of daylight blurs

when the clock reads 10pm, it startles both body and mind

somnolence seeming the natural state

the world hushed and silent as it rests in that brief gap

between inhale and exhale, winter the inspiratory pause