The Evergreen Journal #3 – Final Sunday Morning
It’s Sunday – BONUS Day
for the final Sunday in January 2022.
Walking by Inner Vision
with Lynda McKinney Lambert
Presents
The Evergreen Journal, #3

Photo: “Hemlock,” ©Lynda McKinney Lambert, 2022.
I’ve adopted the word, “evergreen” for this year.
During 2022, I’ll search out the deeper meaning of my ONE WORD.
I’ll be sharing creative non-fiction stories, thoughtful personal essays, and spare poems. Thank you for visiting today. Please tell me what you think in the “comments” section.
~Lynda McKinney Lambert, American Author
The Evergreen Journal, #3
For everything there is an appointed time, and an appropriate time for every activity on earth. (NET Bible)
Final Sunday Morning – A Poem for the last Sunday in January, 2022.
The final Sunday morning before
January steps aside
I feel an urgency
secure this memorable moment
before
February bursts onto this wintry stage.
It’s 3 degrees this morning.
I wake up in semi-darkness
Turn to look out the eastern window
Long icicles form a glimmering curtain
tall evergreen trees
planted during the succession
of my long-life sequence.
I reach downwards
pet Miss Dixie Tulip
sleeping in her bed.
She moves gently when I touch her.
I say,
“It’s time to go outside for a little morning walk.”
I gather her soft brown body
both hands balance her
Carry her downstairs,
connect her bright pink leash
and a small harness.
We step cautiously
into the wintry morning mist
Miss Dixie takes the lead
as she always does
runs to the clearing,
a grassy spot
surrounded by accumulated deep snow.
Our monochromatic landscape
glimmers with soft colors
winter hues are so elegant
Like music. I hear a melody drifting
From the distant northern sky
Invisible crow calls out
five shaky beats.
This is a moment of truth
my shiny purple boots catch the rhythm
Crunch Squeal
Crunch Squeak
Crunch Squawk
Grind Slip
Crunch Step
We call back to the hidden crow.
Sounds of exhilaration
A distant crow in the north shouts
Five short beats into the early morning mist
I listen as a response from the west
comes from beyond
frozen Connoquenessing creek
I turn my head towards that distant crow call
stand a moment to admire
appreciation
spotty snow-covered Hemlock tree
standing in the distance.
We saved the best for last.
©Lynda McKinney Lambert. January 30, 2022.
If you like this wintry poem, you may also like my chapbook, first snow. It is a collection of thirty wintry-themed poems. Look NOW!
Published by Finishing Line Press.
What do you think about on wintry days?