Winter Fog
amorphous creeping, flowing fog
a living wispy presence
directed by Aeolus whim
searching for substance and form
to grasp and entomb
finds unresisting, sleeping shapes
in gray shadowed forest trees
reaching and waving
in the early morning cold
with gnarled fingers tipped with
a million tiny blood veins
frozen and waiting for juice
quietly, hungrily, the fog flows
over delicate linear, earth-tethered artwork
with a fine web of liquid glass
distant glowing half moon illumines
the reflective glossy lacy tracery
with a million reflective sparkling points
slowly the gray above turns
to light then royal blue
then shades of pink and orange
set the stage for an explosion
of brightest yellow as the Sun’s
brilliant glowing golden rays
refract the tips of an infinity
of tiny liquid-coated artful threads
I sit riveted in my wicker and marvel
at the wonder of Mother once again
Copyright © Ed Leonard | Year Posted 2010
|