Winter Solstice - Barbara Armstrong

[Larry Robinson]

Winter Solstice


Winter lifts her sleek baton
poised for the overture
but for now her orchestra
lies dormant in the chill

staccato rhythms printed
on the lake are still,
the timpani within its hold,
the rosined bows,

the bushes dressed in crystal chimes
stand ready for their cues.
Water holds no blueprints for her fantasies,
but she can shoulder up a battery of bunkers
glowing from the inside with otherworldly light.

And what display of drapery is this,
the pleated snow arrested at the
south end of the slide.

Water in abeyance, suspended in transition,
your season of crystal innovations
may be brief,  your intricate blossoms
readily recaptured by the sun,

but oh, how they dazzle before they run.

	- Barbara Armstrong
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