poems about December

This morning I awoke
long before dawn
to silence

silence

no car’s labored approach
no wind for trees
no waves or buoyed bells
no dull urban hum

it was a silence so soft
so weighted
as if the world had died

as if I had died

both within the bounds
of possible
on this burning year:
supermoon rising
a comet’s approach
devils circling

so I stayed a while
let winter
have her way
with bones
and wrapped myself
in quiet nothing

nothing