A Time For Sleeping


Saturday was a cold, gray day.

I lit the fireplace for a quick warm up …

Before leaving the warmth of the cottage

I wrote a little more,
donned my hoody and coat
turned off the gas
grabbed my camera and
entered the cold but
beautifully pure refreshing

air …

I walked …

… I walked up the hill
along 23 to the
alabaster pipeline then
backtracked toward
where I began my journey.

At the base of the hill
frozen water looked like a small stream
or a miniature river system or
what a large river basin would look like
from high above …

Two sets of raccoon tracks walked to
a fork along their frozen highway
where they went their separate

ways …

This world I was in had become
suspended in time …

Fully asleep within the ground of shadows
all things living framed in
shades of gray,
naked, dead or alive and

waiting …

For what?

For warmth to come once more
a time to grow

from liquid water sugar fed
the leaves and buds of trees absorbed

from sunlight stored
leaves giving back after

taking in …

From full sun’s invisible light
a hundred shades of differing green
sun’s light returning
life’s burning

ember …

Roots reaching deeper
seeking … seeking …

Seeking to remember …

But for now …
a time for

sleeping .,..

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