The day of Christmas Eve.

A fresh layer of snow has nearly melted as the overcast sky of morning clears. I woke on my own, watched all of the shows I wanted–including one with Frank. The aroma of freshly baked lasgna still pervades the kitchen. Soon, we will meet the rest of the family at Mira’s sister’s house.

It’s Christmas Eve: a celebration of light shining in darkness. Why, then, does the darkness close in?

The wolf I should not feed growls in anticipation. The one I should stays silent. An arid emptiness arises, instead of the comforting joy I expect.

& I have only my own choices to blame.

Winter wind

in and out of the clouds

the sun