Imperishable Summer

As the trees stretch bare, as the sky shivers and winter blankets us with dark before dinner time,
as we lean into the slow hum, the warm fire, the open book,
we do so believing
green will again grow wild,
sun will again shine warm,
summer hides only
from the eye and the fingertip.
We know even without seeing
where she crouches.
And it's enough, isn't it,
in these cold dark hours,
to know she is there,
to know the way
forward to our own
imperishable summer.


Would you believe I set down to write a holiday letter, and wrote this instead? So yeah, apparently we won't be checking anything off the to-do list today. Unless maybe when I start packing tonight (attheverylastminute), I might decide to type a holiday letter instead. Sure, I'm a procrastinator, but at least I'm creative about it.

Linking this non-holiday-card-whatever-it-is with beloved Heather for Just Write. I was going to link up with some other fantastic little memes like Just Pack or Just Finish What You Started for Once, but neither this post nor my life met the specifications for participation. Go figure.

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