a poem written and revised today Feb. 1, 2013
Trust and Time
Sunshine lies about the deep freeze outside.
Trust me says the clear, clean light.
I wonder if I am making the same old mistake.
Makes me worry if summer will find her way back.
My muse is still wandering around out there
and nowhere close enough to help me.
The empty branches sleep under ice cold, snow trim.
I study the tracks – our boots and the dog’s paws,
adding up the rabbits, the squirrels, the full-grown raccoon,
and the mourning doves’ dance marks.
The cedars balance their snow and ice burden.
For a moment I recalI planting those
with my Mother thirty five years ago,
shovel cutting the hard-packed dirt,
gently planting the new trees,
back filling these tiny tree-lets,
patting down the soil with my hands,
the warmth of the air that day,
rising from my annoyed knees,
carefully watering in the new green occupants.
Sharing the easy work, loving the hope and promise
of all the future love of these green gifts.
Today sparrows and chickadees arrive to perch there,
fluttering down from our dark green wall
for the sprinkled seeds, winter sustenance,
our annual winter gift to them. It is all trust and familiar
and the repetition of small joys.