Winter solstice is a memory,
Chickens resume their work after a short recess.
The firewood in the shed slowly diminishes,
And the goats are coming into their milk of Imbolc.
The washing hangs,
On every available hook or rail, before the fire,
And steamy eucalyptus is helping to clear our blocked sinuses.
Finances and impending tax returns are discussed,
As well as the excursions planned for the rest of the year.
Now at this midpoint,
No Yule cleansing fires here,
Yet we still take stock of what has passed thus far.
And look optimistically towards the birth of light,
And the rest of the year.
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