November 2025
Thresholds traces the transition from autumn’s waning light through the deep stillness and renewal of winter, exploring nature’s rhythms, endurance, and transformation.
I. Thresholds
Trees shimmer
deeply yawning -
anticipation stirs.
Autumn equinox,
the balance of light and dark,
time juncture converts.
Facing eastward.
Fall moon on the horizon
blazing golden hues.
Extravagant colors!
A migratory bird's last song.
Light wanes for evening.
Granting Fall's wish
for an encore flower dance.
Winter procrastinates.
II. Winter Solstice
motionless sun
the darkest moment
light breaks through
climactic pause
night tide meets at Winter's gate
light connects
the sun stands still,
a brief magical moment
winter begins
III. Winter’s Deep Sleep
moonbeams prance
atop the subnivean zone,
a gentle nightlight
winter's shield
snow blanket or hoarfrost,
what holds, what rimes
silence broken
predatory footfalls
winter creaks
unyielding onslaught
of graupel, freeze and thaw,
precarious,
safely tucked
in the between, nestled deep,
all sleep
IV. Winter’s Lace
Vibrant winter blooms
cast against a snowy canvas,
beneath brooding skies.
Amaryllis’ view from the window,
periwinkle winks in reply,
whisper-warm
A little ray of sunshine,
melancholy banishment
Winter jasmine.
Persistence cold,
dancing flurries.
Pansies thrive.
Deep into winter
Primrose’s delightful colors,
stark against the snow
Varied highs and lows,
February vacillates,
Snowdrops appear.
Narcissus’ beauty
shines for all to see,
defying winter’s hold
Colorful and sweet
Pansies’ cousin, Viola,
a winter survivor.
Glory-of-the-Snow,
star-shaped and whimsical,
greets winter’s end.
V. Threnodies
As autumn falls silent under evening's snow,
sheltered seeds don winter's coat below.
Sleeping silently beneath winter's breath,
trees fold into a counterfeit death.
A magical moment when the sun stands still,
winter begins with a brisk, cold chill.
Wintry winds whistle ceaseless threnodies,
glistens frosty precip melodies.
Amidst frigid fields, icicles drip.
Cardinals swoop midstream for a sip.
Mice tucked warmly under subnivean snow,
moonbeams prance across a snowlit plateau.
Betwixt two astral stars, the moon hangs bright,
eerie wolf howls echo through the night.
Playful trickery, a spring bud pops its head.
Winter snaps, not yet— and tucks them back to bed.
brontebrown2 
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