Advent Embertide: Friday
a poem (of mine)
Advent Embertide: Friday
The fruits of the earth are gathered in, stored
for the long months of winter to come.
I walk the dog as the sun abandons the sky,
leaving behind the heavy silence of dusk
and hours of darkness ahead. I hunger
already for spring, its warmth and light,
for I am a woman of little virtue
and love too much all created things.