December Mist

As a child disembarking
from a roller-coaster ride
feels time drop when motion ceases,
takes a viscous, dreamy step
toward a bench, so I concluding
all the toil of the term
rediscovered my inertia.
Such an evening, well might I
and who know how many others,
wedged in nooks of furniture,
typing madly on our tablets,
trade our prophecies of doom.

But the wist to wander took me
out into the hazy night,
seeking traces of enchantment
that beguiled me long ago.
Silent night and empty sidewalk,
cheerily the houses flaunt
shining winter simulacra
'mid their cactus, sage, and palm.
Fire season's almost over,
COVID multiplies again,
but let me have this night, this peaceful
amble through December mist.