By Buffy Calvert
Snow, far from masking the world, defines it.
Each sweep and curve of earth is outlined against the sky.
The pitch of the hillside gleams through the bare woods,
Unseen hollows catch shadows, low knolls shine in the sun.
Snow-rimed twigs and garlanded firs, silhouetted against the white slab,
Reveal the very essence of trees.
Seed-like pellets of snow bounce on the frozen lake,
skitter to a stop.
Feathery snowflakes frolic in the buoyant air,
too happy to land.
Sleet spews from a sulfur sky,
Pings on shutters,
Nightly prowls of deer pock the surface ,
A contour map of their nocturnal passing for our daylight eyes.
Cardinals strut their proud inky crests and scarlet robes against the untouched canvas.
The oriole’s nest swinging from its high branch holds double scoops,
one in the bowl, another on top.
Snow, like grace,
Running over. Celebrate!