identifying the mid point in winter, like i would notch
its height in a tree trunk, marking this moment in time.
seeing the last month laid out in front of me in the form of 3 by 5 watercolor drawings, (the hobby that is as new as this year) that are resting on the floor next to the lamp
and the aloe plant
seeing my name tag, (the one from the meditation retreat) (the retreat that set the tone for everything that has followed)
in the thick juicy aloe leaves
wrapping myself in a blanket and slipping my feet in oversized boots, to walk outside at the turning point between night
and day, to see if i can spot the blue super moon in the early morning.
and seeing it across the road through the neighbor’s trees, looming above the horizon, i want to follow it somewhere i can grasp it more fully,
but i don’t, and i carry my longing back inside,
slipping off the boots, and climbing the stairs back to bed