Under the Slant Sun

When the sun is slant

over the mountain

into the valley,

 Where I live, 

that means it's 

Wintertime. 

It is too bright for pictures, 

eyes squint against

the glare of the sun on the snow; 

but entire bodies of

skin,

life,

beings,

 turn toward it

to feel the radiant

warmth.

This is the time of the sun

when the year is new

but bones feel old.

It's hard to remember

that under the snow,

in the cold,

there grows new

seeds

roots

life.

Shadows are long, 

long enough to have their

own stories.

Now though, 

light is stretching

longer

by seconds each day;

now long enough to 

notice the change.

And it's enough 

to be fed, 

for a few minutes,

that my spirit 

understands

And my resolve

strengthens

under the short warmth

of the slant sun. 

hbk