Winter pond

Midnight glazed the pasture's

one live eye. No more

stubble-silk muzzles

dipping to dribble water;

no more duck bottoms bobbing

skyward.

Moon and sun pass over

in their high processionals

but leave no prints.

Stars are frozen in reflection.

How many circuits now

till thaw and hooves stirring

mud and buttercups?

(c) Copyright 2000. The Christian Science Publishing Society

We want to hear, did we miss an angle we should have covered? Should we come back to this topic? Or just give us a rating for this story. We want to hear from you.

Loading...

Loading...

Loading...