Midnight’s icy tears so moved the light
to sheath the trees inside a jewel.
Then to the mid-day sun’s delight
a willow wept in diamonds.
Beneath, a pond was melt along the brim.
Over shrinking glaze of snow and glass
the willow leaned as though to gaze
upon her glimmer’s loveliness.
She wept a beauty queen’s surprise
or perhaps a queen become too soon,
coronated in resplendent light and
a sky’s unthinkable, unthinking blue.
Trembling in the wind she cried,
giving winter’s wealth away
which melts awash in blinking eyes
of a thousand tiny suns.
To Laura McNeel, who has known the winter of our discontent and plants the seeds of spring.