At the Winter Solstice

by Jane Kenyon

The pines look black in the half-

light of dawn.  Stillness...

While we slept an inch of new snow

simplified the field.  Today of all days

the sun will shine no more

than is strictly necessary.

At the village church last night

the boys - shepherds and wisemen -

pressed close ot the manger in obedience,

wishing only for time to pass;

but the girl dressed as Mary trembled

as she leaned over the pungent hay,

and like the mother of Christ

wondered why she had been chosen.

After the pageant, a ruckus of cards,

presents, and homemade Christmas sweets.

A few of us stayed to clear the bright

scraps and ribbons from the pews,

and lift the pulpit back in place.

When I opened the hundred-year-old Bible

to Luke's account of the Epiphany

black dust from the binding rubbed off

on my hands, and on the altar cloth.