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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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