Clear, dark sky

It's that bitter cold, that seems all the more bitter for the clear dark sky and the bits of Ursa Major strung across it.

This will be my 19th Eastern Shore winter, in some way or other. The 19th year looking up at that hard sky from this patch of Earth between the Chesapeake and the deep Atlantic.

The cold bites as I stare up.

I remember the times and the people in that brief snatch of history.

I remember the other times looking at that sky in the cold. Different, in some way, from the soft night sky of North Carolina.

I wonder about others who see this sky, their hearts beating, their minds dreaming, their souls longing.

It is very quiet here, just now. And, very cold.