About my trees above all, and yes, books.
This season when brooding lenticular
Clouds loom above and the frenetic looks
Of shoppers tell me that winter solstice
Is nigh and the sun hides mostly from our gaze
I yearn for a Southern Hemispheric poultice
Exulting upside down in summer days.
The last few colchicums are spiting frost.
The first few snowdrops are pretending spring
Is not so far away, but I am lost
In winter’s chill embrace. Oh! hear her sing!
A clarity of light on sacred earth.
Sunday, November 20, 2011