I don’t know how to end this work but to say
the paperwhite was right.
I like your earrings, I said
so she took them off and I wore them home.
Out the door and down the trails before the good snow melts to ice again.
Somewhere in the mess
a light shines
the message gets through
the beat goes on.
In a chirping mass of swirl and swoop
the waxwings stopped by for dinner.
In a remarkably normal winter way
we wrap the year with snow.
wrapped as a baby
to walk among us
and show the way