Revealing

Revealing--a winter sequence with topics

From sharp tongues
on this January morn,
bitter voices--
loud cries of common crows,
also pierce the cold air.

an'ya (cold)

Vibrant sunshine
bursts through the brown and gray;
a winter forest--
only through the barrenness
are trees revealed within.

b'oki. (gray)

Wind frozen,
on the tips of withered limbs,
raindrops glisten
in the morning sunshine
adorning the riverside.

Paul (withered)

Along the river,
The heron's tracks begin and end
On the mud flat;
Snow merges with the inside
Of a newly shucked mussel shell.

Donna (animal tracks)

The frozen river
cracks into a galaxy of stars,
melting snow
reveals an old boot
beside fresh bird tracks.

~K~ (frozen)

Bounded by deserts,
our fathers' land shines faintly
under windswept stars...
pine nuts from snowy mountains
flavor the steaming quail soup.

Michael McClintock (steaming food)

Rushing toward home,
with thoughts of your warm embrace,
I did not notice--
my scarf had fallen away
lost now on the windswept plain.

Paul (scarf)

Swirling in the night
outside our bedroom windows,
intense winter winds--
a serenade surrounds us
beneath this woolen blanket.

b'oki. (wind)

What nightfall brings
to this chilly morning...
on thorny cacti,
rows of opaque frostbeads
between the spines.

an'ya (precipitation)

Its wooden spine warped,
Yet the old sled glides so true
Down the slope;
Even the boldest child shakes
From the strength of the gust.

Donna (sled)

What else to do
in the middle of winter
for an old man--
shoveling snow off the walk,
feeding sticks to the fire.

Michael McClintock (fire)

On the hearth,
the pop, hiss, and crackle
of green wood;
he dreams as he dozes,
the aging housecat.

~K~ (winter sound)

Stirred from my dreams
by an unexpected lightning
this snowy night--
the pine needles glisten,
with freshly fallen snow.

Paul (pine)

In this dwindling light,
the resident woodpecker
begins to tap
against a hollow tree trunk--
could it be the rites of spring?

an'ya (winter bird)

Through the long winter
my boat has sat in the shed,
empty and useless--
now I hear ducks on the lake
and will row out to count them.

Michael McClintock (empty boat or lack of boats)