Broad avenues of absent sun

Winter Returns

This is a familiar coat. Soft, white, laid out
before broad avenues of absent sun. It fits
well, still, my foreshortened arms and the
brass buttons hold fast against the wind.

This is a familiar sky. Poured in gray mix,
crushing gravel with each step beneath it,
an aggregate hardened with elliptic cycles
set to a muted cadence burning dead starfire.

This is a familiar loss. Night comes early
to reclaim all it was denied for so long,
emissaries sent to secure the horizon,
stream its name against distant quadrants.

This is a familiar season. Freshened with
a deep resolve to move as it will, kith and
coat notwithstanding, it will stay some,
leave some, and in the end take it all.

Joseph Gallo
December 22, 2010