Comments about Michael Regan
Frost glitters on the road;
An arc of hills ablaze with lights;
How long these icy winter nights.
Like a sudden oasis
In the grey, cold street,
The greengrocer’s stall.
A filigree of green and gold
The twigs and branches of this bare tree
Lit by the winter sun.
Pale January sunshine
To the shivering palms.
In a distant desert the din of war
But here the cheerful woodpecker
Drums Spring’s arrival.