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A Mind of Winter
by Mary Jo Balistreri

While everyone was asleep, snow fell without a sound,
fell in big brush strokes, painting a fresh white
muted world.

Only the magpie from his high stile surveys
the pristine scene, warm in feathered coat, quiet
in the spacious silence.

The sun throws gray-blue shadows from wattle fence
and frosted trees. Even the barn is subdued in a softer
version of itself.

Luminous, like a medieval manuscript, snow shines
with light from within. A traveler pauses, reins in his horse.

The harness bells ringing like glass across
the immense space accentuates the peace.

Sensing a place of prayer, the traveler cameos this moment
in the midst of his busy day even as the magpie flies
into the emptiness and grandeur of air.

Title: line from the The Snow Man by Wallace Stevens.
Ekphrastic poem after TheThe Magpie by Claude Monet

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