What Winter Knows

 

 

 

 Triumph of morning

 clear as a dazzling mirror

 banishing hoar-frost

 splintering ice over ruts

 releasing trapped air

 

fretted oaks moss-lit

engross a blank horizon

synapses dormant

like old folk at the bus-stop

waiting for a ride

 

ammoniac wind

scours the sinuses

of forsaken woods

June a mulch of memories

restoring root sap

 

skeletal boughs

stitch oblique shadows

to the westward fields

widgeon surf silver air

chevron-winged and sure

  

Hope tunes the theme

piques buried longing

sunrise breaks upon azure

to greet a world reborn

O wonder! O Oriens!