In Sync with the Season

in solitude and silence,

close to the fire, listening to crackling

kindling, snapped off branches, whole logs burn

I contemplate the coming frost—

the need to resolve unfinished bits of Fall

Winter: the perfect time

to make peace the way Jacob made his timely,

pressing peace with brother

Esau

after how many years (?)

finally choosing to play his own part

knowing most of us die with a to-do list better extinguished