At the Edge of Winter

the bare trees are celebrating winter
as in months past they offered
new leaves to spring, gave blossoms
to summer and in autumn, fruit

heavy light hangs low in gravitas,
the windows steam, clear,
and my heart becomes still
as guardian stones
in the garden wall that wait
to call my name

today I will say less about myself,
not mention one more dreary time
what it's like to live alone,
but speak instead of silver in the gray
and falling rain, October leaves
splayed scarlet on the path,
the unexpected flare,
the extraordinary

though I go no farther than the mailbox,
and dream of warm ocean beaches,
the narrow cobbled streets of famous cities,
great journeys I am done with,

and if my life seems to mean nothing more
than changing patterns of sunlight
on frosted grass, if my thoughts
wear the discarded fashion of another era,
still there are discoveries, a few loyalties
that stay with me, grace in knowing
I receive more than I can ever give,
some Mystery that claims me,
and I bow.

~ Jeanne Lohmann