city to country

as I wrestle myself away from my work
and my brain stumbles out of the creepy gloom
that is office work regularly
sliding into a deep cellar
of thoughts which lean to the
fields and trees where the people of
a different cloth are stirring
the fire and telling tales
breathing the frost and
curling fingers prepare
meat to be cooked and eaten off a stick
made the trek through the
wilderness to get here that much easier to take
when I could see that they
were going to be gathered
to start the seasons change
with a few words and acceptance of all the things done
in the last year
as a way to begin welcoming in the
next twelve months
under the stars

About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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