Wednesday, March 13, 2013

late winter solitude


how still it is here in the woods. the trees
    stand motionless, as if they do not dare
    to stir, lest it should break the spell. the air
hangs quiet as spaces in a marble frieze.
even this little brook, that runs at ease,
    whispering and gurgling in its knotted bed,
    seems but to deepen with its curling thread
of sound the shadowy sun-pierced silences.

archibald lampman


Windsongs and Wordhoards said...

I was walking in the woods today, still caught waiting in their last wintering days, and these words encompass it all perfectly...

steven said...

carrie - thankyou for visiting and leaving your kind words. archibald lampman was an amazing writer whose words caught my attention as a high school student and who still affords me the pleasure of reading someone who has insight into what i see but have difficulty expressing adequately. steven