Saturday, February 28, 2015
copeland morris THE YEARNING
Serene and beautiful winter be considerate of us,
Shining of intricate clouds, the saffron and crimson,
Flight and foraging of little sparrows and doves.
It opens a scene where lovers have words, avoid
Further words, and depart. See the bodies shrink,
As small and almost as tense as the birds', at times:
Fault lines under the horns of the moon and Venus.
When skies were whited-out we looked for snow
Hoping winter would treat us at once with mercy
After the Norther blew itself out; and strangely
The yearning fit perfectly in place, when flurries
That whirled lay still, and it was just barely morning.
So the fire and the warm house invite our thoughts;
Yet the sky, so fixed and gray, is still sleeping.
posted by Copeland at 4:46 AM