The Word Nursery at New Year’s

by Tricia Knoll

Five words she scratches
in a dusting of snow-frost
below the gorge waterfall
pointing shards of ice –
 
    breath
    patience
    compassion
    endurance
    merging

One word the old woman
will choose as her touchstone
for next year, to notice, grab onto
each instance it appears before her,
repeat before sleep.
Past choices – simplicity, love,
witness, and resilience –
guided her bones.

The cold canyon wind
pulls tears and teases silver strands
from her green knit hat.
Sun floods
the low rock bowl
of the canyon,
edges toward her.  

She steadies
her scuffed boot
above the frosted cedar duff.
She decides.
Leaning, her fingertip erases
four possibles,
her slate melting, merging.