WHITE FUSION

How deep the blues in your own sky
when Canada Geese fly back to the pond
lean looking against the wind

Next season I see less use for rain
forecast, yellow from the south window
east and west, to the north
rosebushes hooded against the frost

Snowdrifts erase our garden’s end
and all human’s doings in seamless dunes
white on whites whirls this invisible night
geese cluster on the pond, heads bowed

With casual certainty, the cat casts away
all sound, without thought, wish or message
flits from flake to flake with great tranquility

(TOWER POETRY, Vol. 62, Winter, 2014)