A Cardinal
After a night of heavy snow,
a deep silence presses down
in woods not unlike the weight
of stones, as though all sound
had been squeezed out.
The snow’s intense glare smarts,
the eyes squint then adjust.
Somewhere in the distance
a dog’s bark carries like a sharp
crack in the air.
And then, from nowhere,
a cardinal, a streak of red,
cuts across my eyes
like blood by a razor’s
fresh incision.
Copyright © Maurice Rigoler | Year Posted 2024
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