How I Ended December

‘tis the season

For bigger jeans. For fuzzy socks and chunky sweaters.

For grandparents’ recipes, softened butter and sugar sprinkles.

For vanilla and almond, cinnamon and nutmeg, fir and cedar.

For darkness, gathering and dissipating. For candles lit and ancient words spoken.

For snowflakes. The world in a drop at the end of an icicle. Frost-whiskers on evergreen needles.

For friends. Sharing seed with jays and chickadees and squirrels. Cheering on the fox, waving at deer.

For looking: back, forward, within.

For walking in someone else’s footsteps, lifting the weight of memories.

For mornings and mournings,
holding them to the light,
turning them,
letting them go.

Goodbye, 2022.