January Sunbeams (A Poem)

 

January Sunbeams

 

by Alice Jane-Marie Massa

 

 

Having survived a number of the record-setting gray days

on this Frozen Tundra, beside the lake–

I graciously welcome into my abode

the rare January sunbeams

that take their rest for a few short hours

upon the beige carpet of my living room.

 

“Willow, come!  Sunbeams!”

I cheer for my guide dog.

When she joins me, I encourage her:

“You have to catch these sunbeams.”

My British Black Labrador complies:

she nestles down into the rare sunshine comforter.

In this patch of sunbeam,

I know Willow does not dream of

her blue boots, red coat, nor salt.

My mellow Lab is in

a yellow Jell-O of cozy contentment.

 

After catching her limit of January sunbeams,

Willow returns to her bed,

beside my computer desk,

and patiently awaits the sounder

that alerts her

to my computer’s shutting down–

our cue to arise for a winter walk.

 

To waylay cabin fever,

Willow and I leave some January sunbeams

alone in the warmth of our living room

while we, bedecked in Arctic attire,

head outside

and hope other January sunbeams

will follow us,

warm our path,

brighten this January day,

lighten the load of this Wisconsin winter.

 

Enjoy this “Once-in-a-Blue-Moon” Day!

Alice and Leader Dog Willow

 

POST-SCRIPT:  Once again, I give many thanks to all of you who added a comment on my previous blog post (“A Collage of Aunts:  An Update,” January 24).

 

January 31, 2018, Wednesday

 

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