On a Night In December

On a night in December,

I try to sleep beneath the soft quilt

And think about the lonely star shining above the trees.

My house drowns in heavy fog,

The wind rattles the fence,

Large drops of dew, like tears of bereavement,

Hang precariously at the tips of leaves.

I remain silent and listen to

The call of the winter night,

The song of the buried town

And the ageless whisper of spring

Coming out of the dead soil.

The world is drenched in mist;

My dreams and my questions too.

On a night in December,

I try to sleep beneath the soft quilt

And think about the lonely star shining above the trees.