Bright stars blaze down
Upon freshly fallen snow
Pleiades, The Bull, Orion
Gazing at my little farm
As they wheel and turn above.
Fashionably late, the Moon struggles
As she climbs the back side of the hill
A hot fire, a hearth fire
Fills the room with an infrared glow
Outside the world slows with frozen cold
Testing the patience of the ever watchful stars; so bright
Though they say not a wordThey wink and nod knowingly.