Celebration
Brilliant, this day—a young virtuoso of a day.
Morning shadow cut by sharpest scissors,
deft hands. And every prodigy of green—
whether it’s ferns or lichens or needles
or impatient points of buds on spindly bushes—
greener than ever before. And the way the conifers
hold new cones to the light for the blessing,
a festive right, and sing the oceanic chant the wind
transcribes for them!
A day that shines in the cold
like a first-prize brass band swinging along
the street
of a coal-dusty village, wholly at odds
with the claims of reasonable gloom.
