Clear
crisp and cold, an Alberta
Clipper blowing all night,
a howling wind bitter enough
to
freeze eyeballs in sockets.
But
the wailing squall left behind in its wake
one of those beautiful
mid-winter
days
one
never forgets. With not an iota
of moisture in the air,
the
heavens a pristine azure,
the
temperature settled right around ten degrees,
with a valiant sun
gracing
the sky
all
morning, doing its best
to warm things up,
enough
for the heavens
to
remain crystal-blue all day, clear as far as the eye could see,
not a cloud in the sky.
~~~
First published in WestWard Quarterly / Winter 2014
