The forest having wept
The trail is framed in ice -
Tears frozen -
Glazed across the granite face
While weeping spruce
Silver-green and shuddering -
Shoulders crouched
Look the other way
As if guiltless,
Pulling the quilt of snow
Across arms outreached.

The black brook frozen
As a vein along the trail
Now soundless in long sun
And secret sacrifice
To winters meditation
All sadness blown away
By the sound of your boots
Across fresh snow
And that laugh that lingers
Like eternal spring melting -
Moving ice-sent floods-
To rush over me.