by NONA BLYTH CLOUD
In the afternoons, it’s hard for me to believe that we are only thirteen days from the winter solstice. Day after day here in Southern California, the weather is sunny and exceptionally dry. Our fire season continues to spread destruction in ever-widening circles. It’s only in the chill of the night that this seems like December. Other parts of the country are getting rain and snow, but we are still deep in drought.
So I’m turning to some poetry with traditional winter imagery as a relief from the anxious waiting for our winter rains to begin.
William Morris (1834–1896) is better known as a leader of the English Arts and Crafts movement, and the revival of traditional British textile arts, hands-on production of beautifully made books and furniture. But among his many gifts, he was also a poet, as can be seen even in this brief poem.
I am Winter, that do keep
Longing safe amidst of sleep:
Who shall say if I were dead
What should be remembered?