January 4th. I’m late. <#aros #1>
January 5th. Smoke drifts low and lazy into the cold winter air. A dog bark echoes from far across the snow encrusted valley. A low haze obscures a whole band of stars. Although I am alone I do not feel it. <#aros #2>
January 6th. Cold kitchen and breakfast clutter. Too long spent playing with shiny stones. Bagels to bake, before the boys come home. <#aros #3>
weights pulling on aching shoulders.
heavy legs and creaking pelvis.
muzzy cloth wedge behind sandpaper eyes.
it’s too early / coffee dearth.
Light reflects on it’s inky black surface
making a mockery of so many shapes, false idols
A minuscuan halo wreathes the point
between syrupy nectar and still, silent vessel. <#aros #4>
January 8th. The pines line up in silent deference to the mountain mist that steals the forest and muffles the world we thought we knew. <#aros #5>
January 9th. Snow sloughs off the twisted barn roof as a million flakes freefall individually, becoming the blanket that carpets. <#aros #6>
January 10th. A slab of cast iron protects us from the frenzied rage of purple and orange that clings and jumps on the blackened kindled below. <#aros #7>
January 11th. Naughty kittens flee, pausing to check if they’ve been caught, skittering again as my approach continues. <#aros #8>
January 12th. We barb and prod, regretting, remembering, reigning back then jousting again, not knowing why, no advantage to be gained, only lost at a careless slip or a cut too close to a truth we dare not understand. <#aros #9>
January 13th. It crawled back and forth on the window pane then buzzed and batted as it’s honeycomb eyes tripped the switch to flee mode at my apporach. I slid the window open then watched as it soared into the silver grey sky, revelling in it’s new found freedom. Halfway through the third barrel roll it plummetted to the snow covered ground. <#aros #10>
January 14th. An oilspot rainbow danced out from the dull monosodium glow of the streetlights feeble attempt to fend off a frosty winters night. <#aros #11>
January 15th. snow flakes drift lazily past the window as children and adults mix comfortably in a macro form of brownian diffusion. <#aros #12>
January 16th. Lego strewn across carpet like the multicoloured aftermath of disaster. <#aros #13>
January 17th. A crimson pillar upheld the turbulent sky, surrounded by a mist of orange idolatory, contrasting against the brooding dark of the mountainside. As I watched it faded until only a reverent purple glow remained on the clouds above Creignish Mountain. <#aros #14>
January 18th. Mountains of snow spring up at the edges of car parks, sheer faces of Matterhorn majesty speckled with dirty grey boulders that reveal the truth behind their noble airs. <#aros #15>
January 19th. The sun rose late and a steady pitter patter of rain washes the glee of winter away. <#aros #16>January 20th. sleep so easily abandons me where does it go between 2 and 4 I’m up at five and dead by eight
January 21st. Rain and ice lash the house
sounding all the world like the sparks from the tin dragons mouth
of that youthful, now sanitised toy
Made in Hong Kong.
When did that get banned and by who?
they made clear plastic guns too
with the sparks contained.
better than a space hopper
Made in Taiwan. <#aros #18>
January 22nd. Cold pervades like tea coloured mud in a trodden puddle. <#aros #19>
January 23rd. fuelled by stress, twisted by tiredness, sugar imbalanced I am irrational. <#aros #20>
January 24th. The blood blister lies purple black under a waxy sheen of skin, blemishing it’s engrained and scarred but familiar host. I know not how to get it out, just that one day it will peel off to pinkness. <#aros #21>
January 25th. The cursor blinks expectantly, rhythmically. Insistently. It does not stop, it does not leave me alone. I prefer the pen, confined by the limits of mind. <#aros #22>
January 26th. minus nineteen. a big intake of breath. ice tugs at nosehairs, settling the brain behind windows of clarity. a memory from scandinavia to start a cold canadian day. <#aros #23>
January 27th. I sit and confess that I have been particularly unobservant today. <#aros #24>
January 28th. bagels march across the table in a uniformity that belies their freshly formed uniquosity. <#aros #25>
January 29th. torqouise green and disappearing, a footprint in a fresh snow drift <#aros #26>
January 30th. black raven on white snow, twisting, falling like a beached fish on invisible thread. <#aros #27>
January 31st. pixels of bright new blood
speckled the ice that I brushed off the boys face
sledging came to an abrupt, cold end
his pain quickly forgotten with a cocoa by the hearth
but the sickness in my stomach stays <#aros #28>
January 31st. a corporeal wall of snow gathered then charged towards me, for a moment all was stinging white before the wind changed and my winter torn world returned stage right. <#aros #29>January 31st. the sun hung like a forgotten torch dutifully on but drained diminished and distant, only there out of habit not really trying no fire in it’s belly. <#aros #30>