Monday, December 5, 2011


Sometimes the signs of the season are not obvious, until they are brought to our attention.

I hear the cat chitter,
The special sound he only makes
For birds.

The juncos are back in town.
They always look like there*s a special occasion,
Dark grey suits with white shirts,
No tie.
It is hard to tell that winter waits.
No snow.
Two stray purple clematis blossoms
Have survived the frost.
Meanwhile we mark time
To Christmas.
Two candles on the Advent wreath.

We mark time
With the juncos.
They are dressed for the banquet
At the King*s table,
At the Baby*s christening.
They wait on the lawn
For the vine out front
To return to winter mode.
They wait
For the snow.
They wait for the banquet,
The baby.
They are already dressed.

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