DECEMBER SNOW

Here's a brief poem, in the voice of an older gentleman, about the importance in the course of our quotidian lives to reflect upon and appreciate the simple joys.

DECEMBER SNOW

The crescent moon, pale and delicate, 
That graced the pre-dawn east
Is now hidden behind 
A silent, windless snow
That whitens the cedar fence, 
Long silvered with age,
That marks the boundary of our land.

There’s a meditative power in this snow
And a chance that deer, coyotes, or fox
Will wander through the field 
Between the cedar fence and home.

It’s December, my December,
And time is fragile and finite
And all the more precious for that.
So my chores will wait 
While I enjoy the snow
And reflect upon the wonder of it all.

© 2019 John M. Phillips