Winter Solstice, Camelot Station

A gift for you

It’s the Winter Solstice, and it’s getting dark.

Light a candle, in remembered promise of the sun’s return. Quiet your home. Something long and dark is taking place, old and sacred as rhythm. Something passes, and something returns.

John M. Ford, whom I never met, whom I know only by his poems and by the enormous shape of loss carried in people I love, d…