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Writing historical fiction: sometime journal of a New York City novelist

Winter Solstice has come!

Welcome Winter Solstice! A time to be a little still!

By Adam Christianson




When harpers once in wooden hall
A shining chord would strike
Their songs like arrows pierced the soul
Of great and low alike

Aglow by hearth and candleflame
From burning branch or ember
The mist of all their music sang
As if to ask in wonder

Is there a moment quite as keen
Or memory as bright
As light and fire and music sweet
To warm the winter's night?
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