Thursday, December 8, 2011


By: Sara Joy Davidson

I remember the first time I saw the snow

The bleak blanket of new

Glazed with a sheer coat of truth.

New and untouched

A blank canvas

With only the shadows

Of birch and elm

Cast about.

Swollen tan reeds whisper on the sidelines

Gossiping like catty old women.

The scarce sighting of a bird that lost it’s hope

It’s flock-

And remained here

Alone and cold.

As the sun rises it heats the white robe of winter

And changes the tracks

Pressing it’s power down

Changing things.

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