Thursday, February 25, 2010

After the 2 foot snow: February 2010

I am not a fox

I am not a fox, says the fox.
The wind colors me red and the snow
makes me deep and silent.
The quality of light is hunger.
There will be no warm respite.
Everything has gone to ground.
I can move, the falling white
bounding my wooded world.
But I can’t escape.

I am not a bird, says the sparrow.
The light frames me brown and still.
I am cold, not flight. I am caught
in the wrong season. Where
are my friends? Where is my food?

I am not a deer, says the doe.
What can I do in this white world?
I am ghost, fading into the woods,
looking for shelter. I am surprise,
the quality of waiting.

I am not future or past,
say the fox, the sparrow, the doe.
I am now. I am sight, I am hearing.
The quality of light is hunger.
I am caught in the wrong season.
I am ghost.

by Pam Blehert

Feb2010 Snow14