The Poet At Christmas Time

Who is she -
she who has ample time
to follow birds,
listen to the streams,
to spend hours with head in book
or pen in hand
reading, writing of death,
or love,
or seasons of both the year
and a lifetime.

She seems oblivious -
lost in denial
of the world
around her,
far beyond the news,
the traffic, the blinking lights
and the red and green tinsel.

She lives to find herself
in the solitude of the woods
wanting quiet conversation
with wise fallen leaves
that find themselves
nestled on her boots.

One must only wonder
what they talk about.