21 December 2012
Day of the Mayans’ 5000 year old prophecy
of a new world or this one exploding. Calm.
The Earth rolls in its old hello.
Black clouds paint a high range of mountains
over Chequamegon Bay. The lake
is calling for ice. Winter’s late arrival
is driving in on the sky road
over Madeline Island.
The new snow wraps the white package
of morning. North of everyone,
I’m opening the gifts of my loved ones’
friendship. Distance in miles or time
Sunlight has just shone through the door,
spattering the bookshelf. The guitar is not crying
to be played. The banjo is silently
tuning itself. The flame from the stove
speaks for me.
The Mayans were right.
It’s the new world I expected.