Sunday, December 31, 2017



Before the night lifted away
Like a little black bird
Catching a sigh
Before the day even spoke
Before the morning’s silver breath
Enchanted the window pane
And the golden sun rolled down
Each snow struck roof
Before any bird had thought
To fill the barren branches
With a song
And the brittle vine to chatter
On the sill
And the memory of moon
Press faces through the dawn
Before all this
I somehow knew
The day was filled
With every kind of hope




Sara Mathews     December 2017

Sunday, December 17, 2017


A little chirp of morning
Calls to me
The day is grey
But here am I
The ground is drear
But here I sing
The wind is harsh
I swing the course
A little chirp of morning
A cheerful chap
Unflappable
Then how can I
But chirp
Right back





Sara Mathews     December 2017