Mid-Day, Mid-Winter


The winter sun has a brilliance all its own

And it scans the mountains at a low angle

Almost horizontal now

And the air is dry and makes no resistance

To the weaker radiance that goes on forever

In summer the Appalachians are soft-shouldered

Almost cloudlike, each tree its own sphere of green

Running together as they grow

But winter shows the edges of land

The ridges are clean lines beneath the bony skeletons

Of the bare trees

At mid-day all is quiet, children are back at their desks

And it is too early for the plow or rake.


I am mid country, rolling on the strength of my own legs

Searching the distant, quiet mountainside

For some great bird that is bound to launch soundlessly

And soar above.


copyright 2017

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