“Winter Into Spring”, poetry


Geese at Winter’s End, wc. Jane Kohut-Bartels, 2006


Mysterious, unfathomable, muted season,

where life and reason are suspended

upon a cold metal wire.

The wind a sharp razor of clipper glass

sailing through glassine air

slicing the pallid sun’s rays–

an attempt to warm a frigid earth

to a remembered fertility.

Solemn seasonal palette,

white, gray, black,

cut with a flash of blood-red–

Kamikaze cardinal!

like the demon wind bearing its name,

dares the thin and paling air

to brighten for a flashing moment–

A witness to recurring life.

Season of bountiful snow,

brings a thirst to the land

where hoar-frost leaches

moisture with a crystallized withering-

hands to crack, bark to shatter,

and all dries and curls about

in a perverse furnace of freeze


One day, a pale day

a southern breeze

breaks through the bonds of Winter

brushes up, slides up

upon the ice

and a crack like a thump is felt in the gut

a slow drip-drip of water

signals the end of this harsh season,

as icicles emit a hesitant stream,

and then the ice dam down in the brook

cracks with a louder sound

and the rush to Spring

is heralded with these natural sounds.

A blind movement

felt deep in the soil-

a careful stirring,

barely a rumble in the gut of the Earth

as birth beneath replaces death above

pushing through the Great Womb

to a pallid sun above,

And the tyranny of Winter is broken.

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2011-2015, published in “Pitcher of Moon:”, published 2014, available at Amazon.com,

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2 Responses to ““Winter Into Spring”, poetry”

  1. TR Says:

    This is such a wonderful poem. I love how you capture nature. There is beauty and life in the winter. “Season of bountiful snow, brings a thirst to the land” I have to harness that of the winter time. Beautiful reminder. xx


  2. ladynyo Says:

    Thanks, TR. Right now Winter here is the Season of Mud. And rain….and a possibility of 1 inch of snow tomorrow morning, but warming up to the 40’s so bye bye snow.

    Thanks for reading….Dogs kept me up all night…..Ugh. Winter is a great time for poetic inspiration, but I’m waiting for SPRING!


    Liked by 1 person

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