Fish Windows Number Two
This view of frosted Tinker,
Fabled mountain, accentuates
Streams of winter clouds floating
In the season’s lightest blue.
Drooping, thinning, browning pine
Initiates surprised walkers
With the season’s final droppings:
Clumps of snow, impotent cones.
Eighteen leaves and forty-five pods
Shimmy, unwilling to take
Wind’s frozen ride on ice.
Hanging on to life too long.
This view, barren foreground trees
Towering over frozen cliffs
Terrorizing passing clouds
With piercing arms, is winter.
Copyright, Doug Stuber, 1988. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given, and with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.