A Window in a bare
Wall, where glass is
covered with beads
Of Ice like
gleaming freckles,
Obscuring my view of
the world
Beyond.
Outside are framed trees,
Unmoving, Stripped
of their green
Leaf-coverings. Patches
Of dry, brown leaves
still cling
Stubbornly.
Now in sight: blotches
of gray-green
Lichen, hugging
crooked trunks, boughs,
Small branches up
to spindly finger-
Tips. Yesterday’s
snow is in a tree’s arms and around
Her feet.
A Raven alights on
a branch
Near me. His movement loosens snow.
Like a waterfall it
sifts to the ground. The Raven
Dances in the tree,
his beak opening, closing.
He is still.
Past him, a
mountain,
Gray and blue,
touches the sky, Curving,
Partially seen. The
sky floats
Beyond the web of
tree branches, little
Windows.
Sudden color
Shocks gray. A flag from behind a trunk,
Shows white, blue and red unfurling. It waves
And stripes ripple while stars peek at me. It
returns
To resting.
A splotch of black moves again: the Raven.
He jumps to a higher branch, wings spreading,
Snow dislodged.
He turns in circles, leaps
Into the air, flies off right and out of
The frame
Of the Window.
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