The snap of ice in the air
The crackle of frost
underfoot
The pop of chestnuts
roasting.
Leaping shadows cast by
flames
Make our company more,
And more animated than we
are.
A delivery of sparks soars
to join the stars
Strewn in the inky sky.
We knead our cold hands
And begin to brood,
Our thoughts caught
In some creek or backwater
As the fire lessens it's
grip.
We feel the winter press
in
The year's gathered
branches burnt.
The point and tangent
Of New Year
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