|
|
|
Winter Thaw
And there is Vermont
Late April,
the trees naked,
snow melting
Sodden ground
overwhelms our shoes
as we climb down the river bank
to see what everyone
has come to see
To share in what the river
has swept
to the doorstep of our small town
A thing of ravaged beauty
that lies submerged
in the winter thaw
stuck on the branches of a downed oak
like a child’s large doll,
but only less human
or so we hope,
as we walk in silent prayer
God, deliver us
from such as this
As if there is nothing
more cruel
than to be sent
before strangers
And by our death
to alter them
Other Voices International
|
