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?