Today's poem was supposed to run last Sunday, but I bumped it to today to take advantage of the timely topic of Trump Administration NewSpeak. But it's finally time to get warm with a poem for a cold winter's day ... even though today here in NoVa, the temperature will be near 60 degrees.
Winter: Tonight: Sunset
by David Budbill
Tonight at sunset walking on the snowy road,
my shoes crunching on the frozen gravel, first
through the woods, then out into the open fields
past a couple of trailers and some pickup trucks, I stop
and look at the sky. Suddenly: orange, red, pink, blue,
green, purple, yellow, gray, all at once and everywhere.
I pause in this moment at the beginning of my old age
and I say a prayer of gratitude for getting to this evening
a prayer for being here, today, now, alive
in this life, in this evening, under this sky.
Have a good day. Be grateful to be alive, even in the age of Trump.
More thoughts tomorrow.
Bilbo
4 comments:
We should all be happy for the gift of life; and should savor it too as much as possible.
Haven't had any frozen ground to crunch yet, but it's coming.
A winter cold can distill things to their essence.
If I can vote again, 10 votes for that Ass Clown Emeritus, Trump.
ARRGGGG. I forgot earlier. 10 votes for trump.
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