Winter’s Stillness
The dog ran ahead
along the mountain trail -
investigating every leaf and tree
as we walked arm in arm
through winter’s stillness.
Fallen leaves froze in patterns
under a dusting of snow
creating art beneath our feet.
Bare tree branches clawed
at the sky like arthritic fingers
reaching toward the winter-blue heavens.
When we strolled onto the footbridge,
spanning the water,
the lake was frozen.
An opaque blanket of ice
stretched before us
with dips, cracks, and undulations -
suspended logs and driftwood unmoving,
earth’s magnificent sculptures.
The mountains encircled us,
stripped of color, gatekeepers of
the lake
and creatures numbed by hibernation
and hunger.
It was so quiet I closed my
eyes to a crueler world -
and opened my heart to you.
Studying your face, I saw serenity
that had long been missing.
I hung onto your arm as I hung onto winter’s
stillness,
a freeze frame of us.
© Laura DeHart Young
along the mountain trail -
investigating every leaf and tree
as we walked arm in arm
through winter’s stillness.
Fallen leaves froze in patterns
under a dusting of snow
creating art beneath our feet.
Bare tree branches clawed
at the sky like arthritic fingers
reaching toward the winter-blue heavens.
When we strolled onto the footbridge,
spanning the water,
the lake was frozen.
An opaque blanket of ice
stretched before us
with dips, cracks, and undulations -
suspended logs and driftwood unmoving,
earth’s magnificent sculptures.
The mountains encircled us,
stripped of color, gatekeepers of
the lake
and creatures numbed by hibernation
and hunger.
It was so quiet I closed my
eyes to a crueler world -
and opened my heart to you.
Studying your face, I saw serenity
that had long been missing.
I hung onto your arm as I hung onto winter’s
stillness,
a freeze frame of us.
© Laura DeHart Young