When December Runs Off with the Light
We sense the passion is seasonal, that life
doesn’t move in only one direction, even though
these sawed-off days are hard to sing about.
The afternoon dissolves at four, making us
wonder what we did with our summer wages.
Our summer wages wonder about that too.
No matter. As long as we’re warm to the touch
a chance remains, we can love the light as it
passes through us, pulling us along to solstice
when the sun remembers to pivot, climbing
slowly higher in the sky, carrying good news
in outstretched arms we’re too blind to see.
Carl Mayfield has recent work in Miramar, Wales Haiku Journal, and Slipstream. His most recent chapbook is I Would Also Like To Mention Biscuits & Gravy.
Amethyst Review 
A beautiful sentiment, and a reminder of the differences we feel during the seasons. Well done, Carl.
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Just read your comment on my poem a few minutes ago, Mark. Thank you. I appreciate you taking the time to pass along your response. It’s always good to know that a few of my ink stains are getting through. I need to look at this Amethyst Review site more often.
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