When Winter Comes
Winter
When Winter comes, nests appear in trees,
Old elms bare their arms like young girls in spring,
Fresh rivers flow through forests filled with melting snow,
Blue herons, feathers tucked, take wing.
We shiver, never more alive;
Warmth is a distant dream
While icicles burst on snow-piled eaves,
And small fish hush beneath a frosty stream.
--Linda Brown Holt copyright 2010
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