December 21st, near 6 pm,
you stand on Fifth Avenue, gaze immersed
in Bergdorf Goodman’s vast “Compendium
of Curiosities.” My mind forms verse,
not from etched, reflective reveries of
glowing glass throughout holiday windows,
but from watching you celebrate this trove
of art and artifacts. This eve bestows
winter solstice, love. All clocks mark this time,
though we’d never know now our sun stands still.
Snow clouds have rushed our night. Their stout forms climb
and mass, covering dusk’s light. Yet you fill
our space with stardust, praise crystal display
of unicorns. Your eyes chase chill away.
Roger Armbrust
December 29, 2009
