Today’s Poetry Friday is hosted by Tabatha at The Opposite of Indifference
Winter has settled in here in the North Country. Some days are all brilliant sunshine, sparkling snow, and clear blue skies as far as the eye can see. And some days (most days it seems, when I am feeling low) are dreary and grey, when the sun can manage nothing more than a reluctant presence here and there.
The pastures and barnyard and covered in thigh high drifts of ice hardened snow, and Sophie, who loved tunneling through snow in her suburban New Jersey life, now sticks to cleared paths. No longer the companion eager to explore pastures and woods, she prefers to spend her winter days by the woodstove, gazing into the dancing flames or blissfully asleep. Perhaps she, too, is dreaming of Spring.
The busiest spots around the farmhouse these days seem to be the bird feeders. I love watching all varieties of songbirds flit to and fro, no matter how stormy or bleak the day. Yes, it’s still Winter…but Spring, inevitably, is also on its way…
Blue by Barbara Crooker
Dull morning, dove-colored sky, black trees. Winter at its most monochrome. Months until spring; don’t even think about it. Then squawk, there’s a jay, a pure blue verb landing on the feeder. And suddenly, you see delphiniums, larkspur, hydrangeas.
And suddenly, even sorrow is bearable.