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The Day After Christmas
It was the day after Christmas the presents unwrapped. The plants nestled and covered. . . taking a nap.
We stayed in pajamas relieved only three gifts go back,
Then what to my wondering ears did I hear, “didsomeonejustshout?”
Confused, I responded, “what are you talking about?”
Bob repeated, “didsomeonejustshout?”
I hollered back.
To which he exclaimed, “WEDNESDAY…THE…GARBAGE…GOES OUT”








Wishing you a happy and healthy New Year
. . .Claudia just saying.
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I missed the first day of Autumn or Fall or the Northern Equinox, whatever you call it these days.
In Florida we don’t experience the typical indicators that cooler weather is coming.
The temperature did drop, but not significantly; it feels cooler because it’s less humid.
What is significant is . . . it’s starting to get dark earlier. A reminder of the darkness that descends starting at 5 PM in the North. At 27 degrees latitude, Florida is not far from the equator. New York City’s latitude is around 40.
Their days will be shorter still.
We know that the Southern Hemisphere experiences Spring when the Northern Hemisphere experiences Autumn, but we forget. However, it was brought to light when I read a blog post featuring flowers springing to life in South Africa. It’s difficult to image we’re in opposite states of nature especially since their latitude 33, is close to ours.
We exchanged comments and she never sees yellow, orange or red colors, either.
I miss New York. We turned on a radio to hear the weather report. I preferred to study how quickly people walked from my fifth-floor walk up apartment window. If it was a rapid pace as they rushed to the subway, I knew to dress warm.
. . . just saying
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I really miss snow.
Family and friends remark, “Easy to say from Florida.”
They may be right; nevertheless, beautiful winter scenes created by the recent blizzard bring me happiness and serenity.
I found myself reciting Robert Frost’s poem, “Stopping by Woods on Snowy Evening.”

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Poem by Robert Frost
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer to stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake the darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake to ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Frost found words to express a feeling so special it has ownership. Not his, but one to be shared.
The line, the only other sound’s the sweep of easy wind and downy flake, sparked my poem.
Sounds of Snow
by Claudia . . . just saying
The sound of snow after falling
A quiet stillness penetrating crisp air
Listen intensely for snare drums not there
The howl of the wind mimics French horns
Stop in soft snow tracks
An acoustical silence alone
An absence of flurry
Close your eyes
Hear the gentle whispers of nature singing
Remember the sound after snow falling . . . never there
. . . . just saying