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
No comments:
Post a Comment