dormant

I have forgotten that each year I tend to go to ground over the whole xmas/newyear period. Well, why should I remember, when out of circumstance and choice it is a time of not even being busy doing nothing. But the days are rolling over now, and the outside world will start to push back in through the letter-box, and the car needs to be fixed, and the cards recycled, and cat litter bought, and people are returning from their own winter holidays, expecting things to be done.

But I have been quietly busy, with little, inconsequential things. A scarf gifted late, a sock heel turned, a trunk of old mementoes sorted and packed and pushed under the bed, a room cleaned and cleared and filled up anew. And walks in the snow, before it is salted and gritted into grey city sludge. And my mind has gone dormant, under its own flim-flam comforter of snow. And thinking is beyond possible, plans for the next and the new are iced-asleep. But the snow will melt, because it always does, and I will quietly wait, being busy doing nothing, dreaming sweet melted away snowflake filled dreams.