Photo by Ioana Kortis

Every year as we enter
crusty, frost covered mornings
and evenings that turn dark
way too soon,
don’t you want to go back,
or hurry through this barren landscape
of longing?

Don’t you imagine it improbable
that spring will return in its time
like they say it always has?
What gets us through
the ice blue shadows
where our comforts are transient
and short-lived?

Could it be the opportunity
for more reflection?
Could it be the coming of dusk
as gazing at the horizon
we soak in the last drop of carroty light?

:: Carolyn Chilton Casas