December lies upon me like a blanket

December lies upon me like a blanket
covering the brown and broken
remains of the past year.

Twilight rose red against the
white of the snow and the grey
of the trees in my back yard.

Midnight comes with me awake and restless.
The evening snow storm spits needles at the window
and the yellow arc of the street light
illuminates the promise of the accumulation to come.

I crawl into my bed with the covers
still un-made from the night before.
I pull them over my head and wait for
the shivering to stop and for sleep
to finally take me.

December lies on me like a blanket.