The rain has washed
away the sun
and drowned the joy from coming home.
The skies are dark
and clouds march in
wearing heavily treaded boots to stay.
The snow, it tries
to show it’s face
but the unseasonable warmth chases it away.
Birds sing melodies
confusion on wings
their usual southern route forgotten.
Mother nature fights
against changes in routine
there is a war going on outside my window.
December,
where are the frozen joys
that you always bring?
(January 13, 2012)
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