the world is golden today.
last night's virgin snow
floats about carelessly
through the trees,
illuminated in late morning
sunlight.
we are but children
playing in frozen pillow fights,
the feathers and snow
making us youthful
once more.
the frost
surrounds the cherry trees
in a tight embrace,
emboldening the leftover
black canker,
acting as an outline,
and it, too,
is tangled
with drops of gold.
i'd like
to peel my skin off
today
and become one of these
winter trees,
bathing in blinding light
warmed by snow.
today is a day
in which i would much rather
fade into the landscape
and only be an observer
to tracks across
the vernal pool.
i was born
on the shore of that
glowing, snowy
pool
and i should like
to die
here.
as the snow
glimmers and traipses
through the cold and still air,
i wish
to be remembered there—
in a clearing
with fallen snow
kissing my eyelashes.
YOU ARE READING
Meet Me in the Woods
Poetryassorted poetry inspired by nature, family and the life of a person who spends far too much time in her head. (sexuality, death and decay are alluded to or directly addressed in some of my poems. these poems are marked by "*" in the chapter title.) ...
