Sunday, January 09, 2011

At Sunrise on Winter Days

at sunrise on winter days,
our trail is through new fallen snow —
every footfall a waxing moon

our muffled steps rise up
through the snow-drowned trees
like flocks of pale buntings

goldenrod, thistles, milkweed,
great spruces weighted under snow —
all nod in early greeting

ghost choirs of summer grosbeaks
sing above our heads — icicles
form along the rooflines as we pass

winter rounds the village, smoothing
contours of house and street alike —
spinning deserts out of snow

in morning stillness, we know ourselves
at last — perfect and complete,
nothing abandoned or left behind.



One Woman's Journey - a journal being written from Woodhaven - her cottage in the woods. said...

Beautiful - but with the cold wind and snow this early morning - my footprints will only lead to the bird feeders that are close to my cottage.

Laura said...

beautiful....what a joy to read. This morning we had a magnificent guest...a red tailed hawk, majestically swept from tree to tree in the woods outside my window!

Cindy said...

" morning stillness, we know ourselves....." yes we do, and it's when I pay the most attention.