Winter Repose

  Winter Day

Yellow flickers of a fire

Sparks behind the characters on the page

Leap in the air

Up into the black chute.

I slowly sip at

 Some simmering
savory chai.

Chuckle at some cynical statement

Snapping as the wood in the fireplace.

Embers of acoustic guitar

Hum in the background

Hitting my eardrums

With the sweetest sound

Of melodic James Taylor contentment.

A light he was to no one but himself

Where now he sat, concerned with he knew what,

A quiet light, and then not even that.

-excerpt from An Old Man's Winter Night-

{robert frost}