December
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

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