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# System prepended metadata

title: Winter Solstice

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# Winter Solstice
**by Ken Waldman**

When the short days feel		
inexpressible. When 			
nothing's left of fall. When		
the dark entry of winter makes				
each of us shrink. When			
relatives finally call.					

Some of us burrow. Some				
of us bake. Some of us				
leave the year behind. 			
Some of us take. Some of us				
travel into the cold, 					
ice, and snow—the moon's				
crescent reminding us to go					
easy. We've been here before.	
