A poem
December 30, 2010
In a place I’ve gone to since high school
In the mountains, zigzag road, cliffs and fog
Chilly night, goosebumps on my skin
Walking up, down, on stepping stones
Grass creeping on the edges
Orange flame dancing on firewood
Radiating warmth and light
Burst! Crackling sound
You’d think it would soothe me
But no
Alone. Wishing ther was someone to walk with
Even just a shadow
It’s my December place
Is it your December place too?
Will you come with me?
