Winter Night

Night settles over the park, shadows have rolled themselves up;

the sky, a flat translucence behind cut-out branches

casts a blue light on the snow.

 

In the hedge, little lights glow like forgotten fireflies,

the sparrow-flock has flown, a leaping squirrel

leaves sculpted waves of white along the rail.

 

Now, only furtive shapes move on the white path:

runner, skier, the eager dog

pulling his master further into the black trees.

Comments

[am]

Thank you for this. I can see the winter night. It is like one of your watercolors.

[Gretchen Hall]

Smiling and able to see the scene so well thanks to your poem and my memory of the park.

[Andrea M]

That's lovely, Beth. Thank you for this moment.