December 23rd

The daylight is waning; the perception of warmth is dying with it
Stalactites seem to hang precariously from the edge of the roof
Their incessant dripping halted for the next few hours of darkness
While the craters in the snow beneath them form crystallized cups
Eager to hold the next day’s catch, liquefied by the sun’s radiance
Snow still covers the ground, now in a dusky yellow-grey color
Mimicking the diluted palate that veils the western edges of the sky
The dark scraggy branches of the trees dissolve into the murkiness above
Soon points of light begin to appear scattered loosely across the heavens
Then filling the void between them countless smaller specks come alive
The night sky glimmers and glitters like snowflakes in the moonlight
Turning from the front window the flickering Christmas candles and lights replace the stars
Filling the room with fragrances of pine and cinnamon while tinsel sparkles amidst the needles
Warming the room while foretelling the coming holiday celebration