branches of glass

There was an ice storm two nights ago,
well into March; and our collective
indignation at the perpetual rebuttal
of spring did little to counter the
wind and rain.

I dreamt that night, to the clatter
of ice pebbles against the windows,
of water at the window ledges
and people wandering, stranded by
floodwaters and picnicking on the grass.

Today the sun gleamed apologetically
and the lilting light of early sunset
shone against branches and grasses of glass
surrounding murky brown ponds.

I thought of the green centers of things
waiting for warmth,
and of the days our breath is caught by
beauty, or pain,
and that center of pale loneliness
we all carry within;
that by which we know ourselves —
or our source of gratitude on those
spare, sunny days.

2 Responses to “branches of glass”

  1. 1 Sam
    March 24, 2011 at 11:46 pm

    Please write more poetry, thx

  2. 2 Dorothy
    March 26, 2011 at 8:42 pm

    beautiful wording

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