Sunday Afternoon

Late sunday afternoon, sun slipping down.

Jazz playing softly as evening starts to own

The day.  Tasks completed, next day to plan.

But now evening descends, and we're left to stand

As night creeps in.

Sunday, the day to restore our peace.

Tidy our homes, our lives, our needs.

Tomorrow we will charge ahead.

Today there's movies to be seen, books to be read

Until it's time for dinner.

Winter Ocean

The winter ocean, swirling spray
White as it climbs the breakwater, gray
Ripples between the waves.  Just
Constant motion of the water, as it must
Surge against the shore.

Unbroken by clouds, clear blue sky
Above, a quiet contrast to the water by
A lonesome shore.  Few people see
The movement or hear the roar of the sea
Pounding all the more.

New Year

January is the time for fresh starts.
Days get longer, lengthening the parts
Of living in the wider world.  New plans
Develop, new schemes unfold, nothing stands
Between life and living.

Though winter still holds a grip
On outside actions, there is a slip.
As that sun lingers longer, burning
Orange in the west, turning
Evening into a later event.