Marjorie A. Buettner...

New Year's Eve

The lake, gray and frozen in time, collects the cast off colors of the day then reflects them back again. Fish houses stand like forgotten sentinels protecting nothing, ignorant in silence. They say it is the end of the year. Later, the stars in this vast night sky, distant and removed, do not speak to us in private languages any more.

rain turns to snow we go to bed before midnight

WHCHaibun 2005-01-01