Last night driving home from the north end of the county I watched the waning gibbous moon rise through horizontal bands of clouds. The clouds reminded me of horizontal vines and acted like roots of darkness.
"Vines, leaves, roots of darkness, growing,
now you are uncurled and cover our eyes
with the edge of winter sky
leaning over us in icy stars.
Vines, leaves, roots of darkness, growing,
come with your seasons, your fullness, your end."
--Winter Solstice Chant by Annie Finch in Calendars (Tupelo Press)