Three days into 2013. Eliza Gilkyson on the stereo, singing “The party’s over”:
we burned all the kindling, passed the bottle around
watched the last coals dwindling
and the ice melting down…
Friends came to bring in the New Year with us, a wonderful evening of feasting and talk and sparkling wine. And now the table is clear, the chairs put back in their old places, the new calender hung in place. The big bowl we filled with holly, nuts, and chocolates is empty:
There’s frost on the trees this morning and the birds were eager for their sunflower seeds and the block of suet I took out just now. It feels like the very dead of winter, yet there are the beginnings of daffodils in the pots, those tell-tale blue-green sprouts promising spring.