“Winter Crumbled,” New Era, Aug. 1995, 24
Winter Crumbled
A slouching rail fence smothers
in winter-sown snow.
It won’t stop the prickly patches of grass
creeping in like a wave of green fire
as winter softly decays.
Rasping winds don’t stop
the sagging orchards.
They become forever young once again
with a pastel of fruits
as winter’s crystalled veil is lifted.
The surf’s song will
begin in the building
of amber streams and freckled water
as winter is silently scooped
from the earth.
Darkness like a shadowed vulture
can’t cloak a lamenting sun.
She will finally come from mourning to wake
from his azure slumber, the moon.
She shall pin the sky with a star
as winter is doomed to die.
All the impassable lands and the icy sky
now swim in amethyst.
Through the pulsing silence and lurking lights
you might hear
the edge of winter crumble.