February Rising

After three months without sun
(that’s how it seems)
a sky free of clouds
is a poem
that can only be written by itself.

A tablet sits on the sill
waiting, hopeful
that Sol will understand
how much damage winter can do
to a pen.

Ah, sweet noon,
The sky is a dome
that spills its gold on the page.
Even at a slant, with most of its heat
missing, the sun is a song.

Only God can make a tree *
and only the sun
can make a poem
that turns frozen ground
into a garden.


  • thank you, James Joyce

4 thoughts on “February Rising

  1. Thank you!

    Yes it is…though it is snowing pretty hard here right now.
    but that’s okay..it’s beautiful to look at and the sure knowledge
    that “Spring is near” has me thinking sunshine and new bloom.

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