December’s Eve

Evening makes itself comfortable by six.
The waft of chimney smoke
drifts and twists to the wind’s whims.
Skin pales with the cold.
Spring already seems an eternity away.
Summer’s leftover scraps
have hardened into a haunting crunch.
The withered promises of
political flyers now just tumbling debris.
A wintry chill aggressively
frisks and pats down every pedestrian.
Exertion leaves vapor trails.
Strangers approach, muffled and padded,
then turn into neighbors.
Heads bowed, starlight goes unnoticed.
Such stern beauty seems
to have taken everyone’s breath away.
On this December’s eve,
speechless, you nod as they hurry past.

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