Sabbath on the Page, Winter
What can you hear in a
winter sky? Trees
sleeping, sap coursing
slowly stopped by
these northern climes and
their accompanying chill.
The sound of sunlight, settled
like a theater's best ending,
shadowplay kept for
juncos and chickadees.
Gray like warm flannel on a
winter's night by the
fire, celestial feathers
cover like a goose's wing
over her chicks.
I tune my pencil, painting
this poem of treesound, cloudstill
and year's end, listening
for tomorrow's song.
winter sky? Trees
sleeping, sap coursing
slowly stopped by
these northern climes and
their accompanying chill.
The sound of sunlight, settled
like a theater's best ending,
shadowplay kept for
juncos and chickadees.
Gray like warm flannel on a
winter's night by the
fire, celestial feathers
cover like a goose's wing
over her chicks.
I tune my pencil, painting
this poem of treesound, cloudstill
and year's end, listening
for tomorrow's song.
"treesound, cloudstill
ReplyDeleteand year's end"
so lovely