On Old Berwick Road
–for Fred and Cina after reading “The Snow Man,” by Wallace Stevens
by Marcel A. Duclos

In the roadside-orchard by the house,
old Gravenstein and McIntosh
lend their bare branches to the flakes

prancing across the hillside pines.
Braving the bite of the season,
white-tail deer hide in the woodlands.

An eerie stillness wraps the farm.
The pastures rest while calm Ayrshires
shelter with silage in the barn.

Fred and Cina bless winter's pause.
Warm milk splashes in tin buckets–
hats, coats, and gloves safe by the door.

When darkness breathes sharp Arctic air,
one must have a mind of winter
to love the night and the new dawn.



 

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