Tonight the stars float in distant galaxies unknown and unknowable; they gather in a mist of light and pool on the surface of the dark lake. I stand near the lake, absorbed by this stillness curled around the distant sound of approaching wind. They promise snow this weekend and I wonder when the lake will freeze over this year--our first Christmas in the new house. I wonder, too, if I will ever be able to shake this bone-tiredness that trails after me like a lonesome animal, lost to home.
the scent of snow scattered by wind autumn deepens