look he said there is still
some ice here just a thin
layer though it's been
eaten away from below
by the water you know so that
now there's a shell to
protect it
(this being their first time and tentative-coated)
it's still there even though it seems winter
was a long time ago
here at the shadowed corner where
the spring creek makes sudden turns and
laughs in restrained tones underneath
later there is open water as the creek
escapes cover reaches out to the pale
fields makes promises appointments
(and he was wary of sunshine)
some fugitive ice dreaming of endless
winter clings to creek-side rocks
is betrayed weeps it can't last
long he says immersed in light
and incipient heat I'll bet
it will be gone if we come back
and check tomorrow
(had been lured by siren songs of spring before)
a small bird sings on a winter-
blasted branch her smile sunlight
on the quiet pool just beyond
the next turn
(still a believer)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem