Garden Ship
The Winter is enamel;
buckets of cold,
sodden pots of late growth.
Snow ship.
Trees taut with
tackle of frost.
Earth hard as
the white sea,
adrift and lost
between seasons
made of ice and sorts
of rain, not falling,
not sailing.
Dull and still
as December.
Copyright © Leslie Philibert | Year Posted 2015
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