Poem: New Year’s Morning


New Year’s Morning

You walk across the field, the sun
breaking in the crux between two mountains,
not bright, not dark, bare illumination,
it’s first rays blinding, painful

until time passes, not even much, just enough
that the light becomes more even,
and your own eyes,
more tolerant and capable

of seeing the landscape,
not as the dark of night and fear,
but for what it is, merely
another field to cross,

another walk to make,
another journey to take.

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The picture was taken in West Pawlet, VT. You can click on it for a larger version.

Tom

6 comments

  1. Firelight – Thank you for your kind words, gracious as always.

    Willow – Don't even mention anything vaguely Frostian in the same breath as me. He was and is in another class all together!

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