05 December 2011


In anticipation (the calm, non-frenzied kind) of the melancholy that will follow the Advent and Christmas season, I celebrate the not-here-yet-ness of that cold, bare, January phenomenon.
Because Norah, she's tres magique.

December, come to me
I hope I can see
You not just in dreams

I will let you be
Why can't you believe
How much you really mean?

December, won't you come
Back with snow, even sun?
Don't say that it's done

I will carry you home
Take you from the loneliest place
you have known

I will carry you home
Take me from the loneliest place
I have known