Cold Starlit Nights





Getting used to something

I’ve gotten used to the sounds
deep in a winter night,
the loud crack of ice from the brook,
a sharp ping of the wood stove
reaching some new temperature,
muffled tumbles of a smoldering log,
the creak of floorboards
as if someone walked quietly.

Downstairs the refrigerator motor hums,
the water heater readjusts.
What is shifting inside this house with me,
I wonder, content, then roll back to sleep.
The snow loosens its grip on the roof
slides with a grand whoosh,
louder than any wild animal outside.






About elainereardon

Poet, writer, gardener, herbalist, beginner artist- pottery, painting—communing with Spirits of the Forest and Field, bumping into magic, peeking around new corners.
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2 Responses to Cold Starlit Nights

  1. Sharon Ann Harmon says:

    Love this!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Kerry and Gregg Stone says:

    HI Elaine-
    Your writngs are really wonderful.. Just read this one and the one with the sheep imagery !!!
    xo, Kerry


    Liked by 1 person

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