Tuesday Poem: Winter Light

Horizontal strobes
across the russeting slope

disclose the contours of the land

the fierce geography of rock
the patterning of sheep through bracken
lipped water-marks on sand

The mountain’s shadow
bruises the lake.

The season is wintering in

and the cold is like loss:
a cramping hold on bone
muscle, thought,  spilling in

from the east.

The air tastes metallic
like snow dissolving on the tongue.

This is the death month
December's Druid alphabet
that signified

the rebirth of the spirit.

Ash trees clumsy with unshed seeds,
a deer’s tooth grooving the bark.
I glimpse a snowdrop spiking up

through a dead leaf

before the  falling sun herds
us into the longest night.

© Kathleen Jones

Image courtesy of ABSFreePic.com

A peaceful Solstice and a very merry Christmas to everyone! 


  1. I do like this . I will read it to cool me down when it gets too hot to bear in NZ! Have a lovely Christmas Kathleen.


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