Winter Solstice

Kara B. Imle
2 min readDec 20, 2020
Photo by Author

Rain falls in tireless ribbons
drifting down from a silver sky
like wet tinsel on a sodden tree.
The cold hides inside my clothing
clings to my skin in thin, icy layers
draws its fingers at last into my bones.
And yet I cannot stop looking
cannot help but raise my face to the mist
for a last kiss before going indoors.
There I will throw more wood on the fire
and huddle close enough to combust.

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Kara B. Imle

Memoirist, poet, shamanic practitioner currently residing on Turtle Island.