On The First Day Of January,2018

If I sit here long enough, by this double window framing a partial view of a stark winter day, I will eventually see a field of yellow and red flowers, a pond reflecting the sky's blue and the sky itself with wisps of clouds imperceptibly moving out of the frame, leaving behind only pieces of spring. But winter is the master now, and it imperiously summons me to acknowledge its reign and not succumb to pale mental images. Oh, this season is gracious! It spreads its spell across white fields punctuated by evergreen groves and frozen ponds. And perhaps its dreams inhabit things in hibernation, and grants them a cold solace for the duration of ice and snow. And the silence will prevail until the first crack of spring. It spreads its cold charm across white diels