By Christine Swanberg
Author and Poet
Magenta sunset points like a pine tree
from the corner of my bedroom window.
All is quiet here this January.
Kitty snuggles up against my pillow.
Dusk brings beauty even in the winter
when stars begin to hang like icycles.
The indigo night begins to enter
and softly from its corner tickles
Venus and Saturn near the ringed moon.
Come O winter night to bless our slumber.
From your vast horizon may silence croon.
Let our dreams be light and unencumbered.
O chilly winter, rise and cast your spell.
In your long night of perfect sleep we dwell
From the Jan. 14-20, 2015, issue