The mid-day sun still low,

The sky’s blue subdued, mellow—

Fog and mist rise from the river

Swirling amongst the moss, the limbs, river rocks, and hills,

A winter’s day dance.

 

Background for the naked trees, gray and white bark

Camouflage in winter mode,

Against ever-green dark—

the metallic river soloing in the still,

Its aria loud after winter rains.

 

Winter’s chill not quite done,

Last year’s leaves still on the ground.

Weeks still to go, hoping for snow,

Long icicles, crunchy steps on icy mud,

Being dressed all in white.

 

I know hints of spring hang in the air,

Only because I’ve seen this play many times,

Each day’s sun only a minute longer,

My third eye beginning to notice–

Almost blooms of alder, witchhazel, cedar

Needing just a little more sun, some more

Sunny days to come.

 

–Neal Lemery, 1/12/2019