As I half doze, I watch the sun fill
broad, feathery brushes
of winter-flowering grasses
in Cambridge University
botanical gardens decades ago.
Stumbling up to freshen mouth,
the bands of blind are shining blonde,
and pulled aside,
sharp sun fragments
dazzle in little mirrors of leaves
on the hedge top below.
Beautiful blue, brushed by winter trees
to a white wash above roof-lines...
Oh, these gifts,
within and without, that meet
in shout
that life is sweet
and joy's redoubt
stands yet,
a sun-drenched bastion.
......
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Winter Trails
PoetryWinter Trails is an album of my poems, journeying through late fall when the wire of the trees begins to dominate, till the end of January. After promoting it and it soaring to three quarter million reads, Wattpad unceremoniously dumped it. Here it...
