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Hyacinth Snow
this is soft hyacinth weather
when grasping snow hurls from the sky
and airy blooms of ice slowly feather
out into the crying pulse of the wind
where the clinking blue chain
on the thicket’s whitened throat
met with the clear parched plain
next to the buried mint patch
a bleached fox knelt
and asked in her coughing voice
that the god of the winter’s melt
would come rustling down once more.
© C.S.G.
when grasping snow hurls from the sky
and airy blooms of ice slowly feather
out into the crying pulse of the wind
where the clinking blue chain
on the thicket’s whitened throat
met with the clear parched plain
next to the buried mint patch
a bleached fox knelt
and asked in her coughing voice
that the god of the winter’s melt
would come rustling down once more.
© C.S.G.
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