Tuesday, August 2, 2016

Morning Light (Winter)

SW France. 31 July 2016.

Morning light comes tapping at our door
oh thin-lipped winter visitor
who could not want you more?


Morning light comes tapping at our door
like hunchbacked crone in puffy parka
you slouch across the mean oak floor.


Morning light comes tapping at our door
sap is tugging on limbs of un-leafed pallor
you condescend to visit we spirit-poor.


Morning light comes tapping at our door
you early peep above joy’s perimeter
these pretty horseshoe hills we came here for.


Morning light comes tapping at our door
you timid melt the frost-rimmed elder
hazel, walnut, apple, quince...oak, ash and haw.


Morning light comes tapping at our door
oh flint-hearted winter visitor
how could we want you more?