Courtesy of NBC News
The last week of December is a warm blanket.
It is soft and dark and I hold it close.
My cold fingers pull the edge to my chin.
The stars come early and leave late.
The sun is only a thawing warmth.
So I breathe slowly and deeply
where I can think alone
and hear words in my head,
feelings in my heart,
quiet in my limbs
under the blanket. In December
in the darkness
I notice where I have been in the brightness of spring, summer’s lushness, autumn’s splendor.
I can piece their days into my blanket of loose strings and tatters.
The darkness says I can’t go back, can’t relive or undo, or repeat.
So in the last week of December under my warm blanket, I look at the stars
and turn their direction.
I number them and name them on paper, put words to their glimmer
and ready myself to follow.
Rebecca Guevara, A voice of occasional reason. 
“I notice where I have been in the brightness of spring, summer’s lushness, autumn’s splendor.” Always my last activity of the year, Rebecca. I enjoyed the images you created as I think of what has gone and what might be. –Curt
Thanks Curt. This time of year seems a natural for introspection.
Liebe Rebecca einen schönen Mittwoch wünsche ich dir und danke für deinen Besuch im Bilderblog herzliche Grüße Klaus
Lieber Klaus , vielen Dank für die Kommentare . Ich hatte einen schönen Mittwoch und ich wünschen Ihnen eine gute Montag da ich glaube, den Sonntag ist bald vorbei , Rebecca
This is a beautiful memory poem and it reminds me of childhood Christmas’!
Thank you Jennifer.
Reblogged this on 'The Last Wave: A Near-Death Experience', EBook and commented:
This poem touched me deeply because it has all the nostalgia of a year past and gone, with all the hope of a better future. Plus, next Christmas, this is going to find itself somewhere in a craft, that I can share with family, during the holidays! This poem is nostalgic and heart-warming.
Thank you again.
Wonderful pictures painted,Rebecca, with a dreamy haunting quality. ❤ ❤ ❤
Thanks Tess. To me, that is what the end of the year feels like.
As others have said your words created this wonderful image for me. Reflective and warm. Eloquently written!
Thank you though it’s now getting a little old. Maybe I should do something about that.
“I can piece their days into my blanket of loose strings and tatters”…absolutely beautiful! Wanted to stop by to say and hello and to wish you the happiest of holidays and a bright new year before retreating back into my book writing cocoon. ~Karen~