The Shortest Day of the Year

December 21, 2010

Photo by Josh Hild on Unsplash

In its pre-dawn winter slumber
Our street lies silent, cold and bare.
Scant sign of snow this dank December:
Christmas will be green this year.

A single light in the cul-de-sac,
Along the street appears another.
More squares light up amid the dark.
In the distance revs a motor.

Of those opening notes I nothing know, 
Knit up in sleep a further hour
’Til war, disease, barbaric law
In the porches of my ears they pour. 

But to poisons far off I’m immune
And Metro Morning natters on, 
Appalled by Mayor Rob Ford again
And talking up what’s on in town.

The four-o-one is slow and slower
Faithful Jim on Traffic tells us.
Those trapped out there this early hour
Of my cozy bed would be so jealous.

Too soon comes whining from the hall. 
Jake would have his morning walk. 
I gather the forces of my will
And slowly turn the covers back. 

He greets me with delight sublime, 
Then two sharp barks say let’s get going.
As venturers who’d thrive supreme,
By now we should be up and doing. 

Once disburdened, Jake goes wild, 
Sprinting the street in canine bliss. 
I bend stiffly in the morning cold,
The plastic bag creator bless. 

Every lamppost, hedge or tree
For Jake’s keen nose is full of story.
I want in from the chilly gray
But allow the beast to sniff, to tarry. 

And should another beast appear
Jake will stare, tail slowly wag
To say he is unfazed, aware,
But deign be friends with fellow dog.

On this day, though, it’s just we two
Who walk, who stop on the empty street.
Enough at last and in we go, 
Jake’s world we've deemed in dandy state.

Now is my own world all before me, 
A wide expanse of charm, of challenge,
And diversions to ensnare me
In soft and lethal self indulgence.

I am a fledgling yet again; 
I launch myself from day to day, 
And buoyancy of air re-learn
In a bracing game of fly or die. 

Some time yet remains before me
To say my say in the public sphere.
Much more time now lies behind me
Impelling the stride from dream to dare. 

On this day, though, the dare can wait, 
The reach for words can rest a while, 
As I join the rush about,
Concede at last the festive spell. 

Too early, carols do annoy
But sung in season gently move
The heart. And silver lights on bough
Do please, inspiring even love

That I express in every gift 
I buy, showing special thought of her
Or him, and that no one is left
Unrecognized I do make sure. 

With Jake on evening walk I note 
The wind’s died down and softly glows
Our feast of lights. And poised in wait
For snow the street seems and the trees.  

		* * * * * *

Inside, Beloved serves a meal
With wine full bodied, deepest red.
We must from time such moments steal,
Our daily talk, our daily bread.

Before the fire in sleep Jake lies,
His legs and tail like golden streams.
I watch his chest collapse and rise.
He sighing dreams his doggy dreams.