Healing Winter’s Wounds


Frozen court ladies sit silently
on a rock ledge above the road:
silvery white drapery
flows down from their knees
in solid folds,
And caught in their ashen hair of skeleton branches
A golden leaf or two flutters nervously
Soon, slips of ice will shrink back
And cracked walls of rock will cry tears of joy
And begin to
Heal winter’s wounds.

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