I Live in My Winter


I Live in My Winter

Removed from the junipers’
fragrance, separated from
prickly pears gracing
the hill, limestone slabs
jutting from thin soil,
and smoke drifting from
a well laid fire on a cold
night. Old, today, I
call the clouds my
birthright, want only
to merge with them
and rain through
another black coffee
in this unfamiliar place,
this new home,
this welcome peace.

10 thoughts on “I Live in My Winter

  1. Your current locale far more suited to life’s winter analogy than Texas hill country … this poem tugs … an appeal to living where “just staying in” would be recognized as practical (as opposed to perceptions of laziness – Texans keep doing yard work all winter!)

    Liked by 2 people

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