Dizzy

I am dizzy with the effort
Of looking up, head thrown back
To see the sky from an unknown point.

When the clouds drift by
They are held by the shoots of
Nascent spring.

And through the light of blinding spots
The sky clears like it never has.

Larkspurs

I am amazed.
I have lost count
Of the weeks you have thrived
On a mantel with the other objects
For my contemplation.

Through it all:
Rallies of indignation,
Torrents of snow from a birch,
And the dry eyes of my grieving patient

You are there.
And in your tiny blossoms,
Will I find the answers?

Snow at Dusk

The snow came
In drifts from the lake
And a world that was white
Was made even whiter.

Half of an elm in drapings of
Hoar and its deep gleam at dusk
A two-faced prince.

To Meet

We meet in the middle
With the purest of intentions.
Tip to tip,
And sometimes, limb to limb,
We look for ourselves
In the other's eyes.


But our pith,
They remain untouched,
And then we are surprised
At what we do not see.

Ice Fishermen

Over ice
And under the bearded willows,
They trudge
With their cargo of sport.

And through the changes in light,
They wait.

When it's time to leave
By the glow from their lamps,
They do not see through the willows
A purer light.

Light

It is there

Although

You may not think so.

I see it in your hair

Escaped from clouds thick with the rain

That may

Or may not come.

When it has gone

Without fanfare

It is just to alight

Nearby.

February Thaw

Somewhere came the slow sound of bells,
and in its softness

I see the buttercups of spring.

Whitened, ageless, the four elms

have learned to wait,

and through the trickle of melting snow

they soar into the mist.

Birds of Winter

Were it not

For your seamless arc

Across the pale afternoon sky,

I would pause just long enough

To blink away

The random spots from my sun-blinded eyes.

Patch of Light

I woke up

to a patch of light in the dark

and strands of my hair,

wavering

as shadows,

and saw that they were all

of my making.

Another Chance

In the evening when the lights go on

and I could hear the sound

of snow falling in the dark,

I think of the sunrises I have missed,

and the vow

of not wearing out

fidelity.

Footfalls

One by one we emerged
Through doorways, alleyways, a mangled fence,
Soldiers of snow bearing shovels
With glints of metal in our eyes.

We worked by daylight
In a landscape without end,
In a silence that has not been marred
By a rivulet of mud.

And when evening came,
And the tunnels hewn,
We could again hear
Our footfalls in the snow.

Snowdrifts

So the snow fell throughout the night,

Its silence masked by a wind that did not cease

Until morning came, fringed with the snowdrifts

That will remain for as long

As we search for the answers in their depths.

The Storm

It has been heralded

That the storm will come

At a fateful hour.

So we wait and watch

Behind birch and brick,

And in the rising wind

We hear the song

That will wash away

Our remaining fears.