“First Snow”

(Mimi walking in the front garden snow)

 

“FIRST SNOW”

 

This morning brought a first snow,

And with it wind over the mountain.

I watched snow turn to ice,

Invisible sleet hit the panes a’ hissin’.

Soon a crystal coat on tender branches—

Invisible hands pulling to earth,

Anchoring them fast.

 

I depend upon the silence

Creating a space to remember,

Solitude, too, now to be shared

Only with ghosts,

Or perhaps a cat or two.

 

Inside the comfort of crackling of wood,

Well seasoned of last year’s split,

The sweet, sharp tang of pine and oak,

The groan of a log shifting its failing weight.

I remember your boot kicking it back off the hearth,

Sparks flaring upward,

Stars enfolded by a blazing sun.

 

Outside the pelting sting on windows,

The howl of winter racing round eaves

Looking for attic-access between clapboards,

A hambone skeleton dance to

Shake its palsied bones warm.

 

Soon  fading light at twilight

Suspends the day

In a cocoon of white, unfocused mystery.

 

The night brings a muffled benediction

Over the land,

And memory is put aside for the morrow.

 

 

Jane Kohut-Bartels

Copyrighted, 2010, “First Snow” originally published in “White Cranes of Heaven”, 2011, Lulu.com

Cover for White Cranes of Heaven, 2011, Lulu.com Watercolor, janekohut-bartels

Tags: "White Cranes of Heaven", Jane Kohut-Bartels, poetry, snow in the south