Winter Poems by Georgia Beyard

Georgia Beyard

January 05, 1991|By Georgia Beyard

First Snowfall Infinities of crystals, each, a white

six-sided lace alone, together weight

enough to pull electric line from height

to heavy sideways sagging C-shape, bright

against the brighter silver coated field

day long had fallen. Dolphin, starfish, bird,

whatever swims December, swam in wild

immensities of ice. From pine, unheard,

fell spangled frozenness. Then, one bird flew

its redness through that time of snowfall when

one color only coats the world. Blue,

all others, are October's, March's then.

That night, we walked through whiteness, you and I

and down the dark we heard the owls cry.

Second Snowfall At year's end, every winter weather crossed

the county. Flecks of geometric light

congealed on sidewalks. Frozen branches tossed

in wolf teeth wind. From river's edge, a white mist

fogged suburb. Everything begins

in hope: mornings, journeys, baseball games.

Thereafters disappoint, as do agains.

New day. New snow. Each dogwood, pear tree blooms

-- an artificial April. New Year. Now,

eat bread, embrace. We cannot know

how long the frozen fields will fill with snow,

nor what is food for foxes, circling crow.

Whatever weathers, though we falter, fall,

my love, with love, let us, each season, fill.

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