 |
by Paulette Demers Turco in response to Walk in Beauty by Ann Huston Clothed in layers of red and gray at dawn on her walk along the worn clay way, this frigid winter hour, she feels she's drawn along the river's edge to sense each ray of subdued lavender and hint of rose above, its warming light on thin white ice, hiding life below. The river flows beside her, hidden. Can she bear the price to leave her aching wound, her loss, behind, not fear the brambles, thorny branches, sprigs, the rocky hills? For now, she will remind herself that barren branches soon hold figs, that once lush leaves of red-tinged twigs release each fall, some root—come spring, bring beauty, peace.
|
