IN THE NORTH
This year I saw a winter quite anew
and watched the darkening days devour the light,
reduce the sky’s palette to sombre hue,
leach crags and dales and walls of modeled life.
Each day another pace towards a dark,
a place of velvet black of deepest mystery,
a void enclosed within the flakes of bark
the sculptor made which draws me in inexorably.
But we both saw the void the sculptor rimmed.
You see the edge, I see the whole within.
The rim which contrasts faintest hints of green,
which gives us hope beyond our dream.
We too are more than each upon our own,
so together see both dark and rising dawn.
