Sunday, 9 June 2013

WINTER RECOLLECTION


Now, when the trees stand silent,
the dead, winter scene
Stretches beyond the creaking snow horizon.


The awesome caw of a lone crow's
call
Is all which exists in the world,
of the moment
Of recollection and no other.


Now, when the horizon lies silent,
the trees creak in recollection
Of the moment when the crow flies away,
and the cold, pure vision
Of a white moon, growing bright in its ascent
through their branches.


Now, the scattered magic vision of the stars
glistening,
mapping out the Universe!



RW, first draft, July 1979, latest draft, 15.XII.92.

Copyright, Rory Winter 2013

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