I tell them the shortest day is past.
Beg them, “hold on, take heart.”
(Or whatever the botanical equivalent is).
“For each day, despite the cold to come,
there will be more light measuring itself,
tiptoeing toward spring, tickling you awake
in your city pretensions of gardens,
stage set of ivy, holly and (for now)
leafless, blossomless clematis vines.”
