Christina Rossetti: In the bleak midwinter
In the bleak midwinter, frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron, water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow, snow on snow,
In the bleak midwinter, long ago.
Video: The Scroll of the Prophet Isaiah
“I work after his voice and do exactly what he says to do… He put up what colors he want. I don’t know about them.”
Michael T. Young: The Gift
I’m rocked into fields
of a lyrical witness, history rolls over
glittering in sunlight
William Bronk: Music that Sees Beyond the World
Decembers, the little deaths of dark pool down.
Intricate, bare branches blot in the dark.
Ellen McGrath Smith — Corona: The Apples in Winter
The emotions go somewhere. Like water, they find
their own depth and go somewhere.
The salmon-smudged sunset unravels December
as Saturn comes in to make judgments,
name debts.
Doug Anderson: South of Laramie
And that is the way with love.
Speak only when you cannot help it.
However strange and vibrant the sound.
Anonymous: The Ruin
Wondrous is this wall-stead, wasted by fate.
Battlements broken, giant’s work shattered.