The leaves have all fallen now, 
feathered moon is on the wane.
Gray skies are cold, gloom cold
waiting for rain, for snow, for wind.

To spite all the colored lights
the sky's gray withering stare
beats down on the day in silence
thinking that, at last, it has won.

Hardly! The lights I hung on a lovely tree
glow in color determined to reveal
what the gray and dark try to conceal -
the hidden life of the mysterious world.

Trees with fallen leaves have not died.
Birds in the shrubberies have not lost their way.
We sit in our silent homes and watch
as night unfolds into its flower of day.
__________________________________________
Portland, Oregon - December 13, 2022