White World

A white world beyond the
curtain this morning, snow
fell all day, wet, sleety.
It came from the East and
wet my windows - I read,
stared out at it, watched
the bullfinch eating buds
in the tree.  No outing today -
too cold with bitter winds -
I stayed inside near the fire.
I have all I desire.  No need
was on me to speak, walk,
do any other thing.  All things
missing I cannot bring back,
the edges of my deep wounds
unhealed, frosted, old.  I know,
I learned, how
to withstand the cold,
how to bear the lack.

previous poem

next poem