I want to be this quiet. The December night pulls out its mist its fog and lays itself over the morning frozen, evening silent earth. The fog gathers around the old fashioned streetlights and I cannot catch my breath. Oh my beautiful life I want the dignity of December, who knows when to be silent and still I want to wrap myself in fog and offer nothing but quiet I want to reassure my earth that I am dreaming of snow but for now I content myself with this thick purple I want the light to shine through me my heavy silence should make the lights know their own quiet beauty I want December in me, to know how to shroud myself in thick mist to fog my beauty in quiet -- I want that wisdom I want this quiet to be me.
13 December 1999