Toward the Winter Solstice
By Timothy Steele
Although the roof is just a story high,
It dizzies me a little to look down.
I lariat-twirl the cord of Christmas lights
And cast it to the weeping birch’s crown;
A dowel into which I’ve screwed a hook
Enables me to reach, lift, drape, and twine
The cord among the boughs so that the bulbs
Will accent the tree’s elegant design.
Friends, passing home from work or shopping, pause
And call up commendations or critiques.
I make adjustments. Though a potpourri
Of Muslims, Christians, Buddhists, Jews, and Sikhs,
We all are conscious of the time of year;
We all enjoy its colorful displays
And keep some festival that mitigates
The dwindling warmth and compass of the days.
Some say that L.A. doesn’t suit the Yule,
But UPS vans now like magi make
Their present-laden rounds, while fallen leaves
Are gaily resurrected in their wake;
The desert lifts a full moon from the east
And issues a dry Santa Ana breeze,
And valets at chic restaurants will soon
Be tending flocks of cars and SUVs.
And as the neighborhoods sink into dusk
The fan palms scattered all across town stand
More calmly prominent, and this place seems
A vast oasis in the Holy Land.
This house might be a caravansary,
The tree a kind of cordial fountainhead
Of welcome, looped and decked with necklaces
And ceintures of green, yellow, blue, and red.
Some wonder if the star of Bethlehem
Occurred when Jupiter and Saturn crossed;
It’s comforting to look up from this roof
And feel that, while all changes, nothing’s lost,
To recollect that in antiquity
The winter solstice fell in Capricorn
And that, in the Orion Nebula,
From swirling gas, new stars are being born.
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We knew Thursday morning that we were going to be picking up the car from being serviced in the afternoon, and I thought the post office would be delivering the stamps for my holiday cards since they said they would arrive today, so I spent the late morning/early afternoon getting my cards in envelopes. But the stamps did not arrive, so I couldn't drop the cards off at the post office en route to get the car. I did, at least, get two loads of laundry folded.
We took a walk because it was a beautiful not-too-cold evening and saw deer and the first bunny in a couple of weeks, then had (fake) chicken with honey mustard sauce. I had my usual Thursday night Zoom call with friends from fandom after this week's Ghosts, and we turned on the Rams-Raiders game in time to see the ridiculous exciting ending. From the Valley Craft Network tour a couple of weekends ago, the artists displayed at Van Gilder Pottery:
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