in the garden. Some needles
in front of the fire.
The baubles came off reluctantly,
clinging onto the branches.
The Bavarian soldiers still hanging
proudly. The fairies' heads drooping.
All reconciled to their fate of being
stored away in their boxes.
The holiday season is discarded,
but not forgotten, still burning
comfortably in our hearts. Time
to make way for the New Year.
Fresh beginnings. The crocuses
are already snaking up from
the frosty blades. The daffodils
stems are rising in defiance
of the cold bite. Everyday I watch
the scortching sun pound down
on the players in Australia. It thaws
my bones and frees my spirit. And
the pen runs away with the ink and
soaks the page with thoughts.