​In this light filled land
July is a cold, cold month
That scores its notches
On the frosted earth.
 
Winter
Embalmer of dark thoughts
Is heady with the crack of
Evanescence.
 
Its short days
Fractionate
The sweet balsam
Of its heavenly chill.
 
It floats and traps remembrance
Like the energy
That still courses
Unbending through the dank soil.
 
Echt July:  the month of memories
Signposts, reflections
Dappled by the solstice
And the miracle of winter sunshine:
 
It harbours the seeds of renewal.

Gar Jones - January 2016
​

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