Poems · The Catbird Sang

THE STREAM

THE STREAM
Snow laces branches and melts
in the stream that slips
between shaded hills.
Quietly, it slides
past trout lily and snakes
around remnants of shattered
stills. Winding its way
through running cedar,
it passes the ivory
remains of deer season.
Snow softens the landscape
but cannot cover
the bared ribs.