It’s late and I sit alone
Staring at the blackness,
Window image staring back
As frigid gusts howl and roar.
Streamers of snow slash by,
Tree branches whip violently,
Autumn’s leftover leaves
Surrender, swirling madly
Down and up and away.
Squirrels and chickadees
Cling to their shelters
And one another.
Spring has disappeared.
And so I wait, listen and stare,
Water tanks filled,
Candles and oil lamps ready
For the inevitable.
-Eleanor Kidd