1.
Crystal coated, encased
in a frozen drop,
brilliant as a diamond,
carbon pressed, this bud,
ready now to bloom and blossom
in a golden sun rising, an azure
sky
of an April morning.
2.
It’s silent, that brook
stopped up, held fast with cold and
ice,
quietly waiting, awaiting
spring’s thaw and melt,
to set free again the music
of a mountain stream
held back and frozen, now released.
3.
They lie barren, stark and naked,
the bark and bite of winter trees,
a dormant death, random and
unordered
chaos of trunk and limb stretching
into an endless maze of black on
white,
echoing my fears, fears gone now in
a splash
of green exploding on a quiet day
in May.
No comments:
Post a Comment