Growing Younger

Do you ever wish you could hit rewind
And go back to the days when lillies danced in the field
When the future was open and your cares released
When you still had a chance to sail the open seas.

When your sails were open
And your mind could catch the breeze
To go wherever the wind took you?
As I stand at the pinnacle and look down the slope
I feel a hurry to my denouement
And I long for the sweetness of release.

winter is...

The muted din of winter marks
The death of the vibrance of summer.
For those of us who enjoy the comfort and isolation of the desolate quiet:
the absence of loud colors and obtrusive "noise," in the broadest sense of the word;
Winter is the padded rabbit hutch of our warm hibernation.
Winter is the tranquil comfort of a thick blanket;
a fire that speaks an insular bubble
amidst the cold and frost and a good book or show.