By madowoi

Balance Rock with Porcupines

My little lack-of-light, my swaddled soul,   
December baby. Hush, for it is dark,   
and will grow darker still. We must embark   
directly. Bring an orange as the toll   
for Charon: he will be our gondolier.   
Upon the shore, the season pans for light,   
and solstice fish, their eyes gone milky white,   
come bearing riches for the dying year:   
solstitial kingdom. It is yours, the mime   
of branches and the drift of snow. With shaking   
hands, Persephone, the winter’s wife,   
will tender you a gift. Born in a time   
of darkness, you will learn the trick of making.   
You shall make your consolation all your life. 

Lullaby, by Amanda Jernigan

It was cold and grey along the Shore Path today. Frenchman's Bay presented a stark contrast to the shops in town just a short walk away. Most of the stores in town are closed, of course, and boarded up for winter. But those that stayed open were decked out with holiday bling and busy with people browsing for holiday gifts. 

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