come . . .
sit in the dark with me
and tell the truth
reach deep in the
pockets of our souls
for scraps of hope
and wonder
come . . .
look up at the storms
of firefly stars flinging
their light our way
lay back on the blanket
of dead leaves and
sleeping soil
come . . .
sing an old song
on this longest night
this first day of winter
the one about being
together no matter what
yes — that one
Peace,
Milton
Yes.
love. love. love.
Thank you.