In Homage to William Butler Yeats
by Sheri Lindner
I will arise and go now, and go to the snow-stippled woods
Where diamond dust drifts in languid leisure
And earth-mounds curved in tufted displays
As a feather comforter.
With waxed boards clipped to my boots
Will I glide into the deep silence
Of falling gossamer prisms.
And in that place of no-sound
Will I carve two tracks
Prayerful at the altar of dappled light
Filtered through green needles,
The shadows of sugar maples
As the earth and I go our ways
And my signature seal whispers
In rhythmic exhalations beneath me.
Time will arise
When I will point my skis
Toward the dying light
Beyond the trees
And leave these shadowed woods,
To the wood stove's warmth
And there will I set the soup to simmer.