Today is the shortest day and the longest night of the year. The world was supposed to end, but as far as I know, that hasn’t happened. If it had, I wouldn’t be sitting here writing this, would I?
Last Saturday, I attended a day-long poetry workshop in Buffalo, Wyoming, about a thirty-minute drive south of Sheridan. The presenter asked us to write three five-line stanzas: one about a mirror, one about the moon, and one about the winter solstice. Below is my product of this exercise. Thanks to A Writers’ Alchemy for inspiring me to post this.
On the Winter Solstice
The woman in the mirror
shows no trace of grief,
no hint of inner turmoil,
no clue that she’s middle-aged,
no sign of being a widow.
The moon hovers in a starlit sky,
streams through the window,
unseen in the lighted room,
shines on the sleeping world,
as I gaze at my reflection.
On the shortest night of the year,
part of the advent season,
one night no different from another,
I reflect on my life
and the turn it has taken.