Sunday, February 02, 2014

Black Spruce

Surrounded by the harsh, the stark brown fell,
Slumbering, detained in a chill embrace,
Branches a-whorl, Boreal spruce abides:
Ever-green, poised in silent effulgence.

Splendor of needles, pungent acid wit,
Attendant of the vast eye of the sky,
While foolish birch maidens, naked, shiver,
You guard your reflection in moss and grass,

Bestowing on all the breath of sunshine,
Holding stalwart vigil, unasked, un-thanked--
Till a dryad emerges from hiding
To kiss this chalice of water and light.


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